Getting There and Keeping Going
by SkySky99
Summary: Romano Vargas decides to leave his old life in a boring, gloomy town. He soon finds that the warmth of Spain's sun and it's people give him a breath of fresh air. With this air comes a new clarity about who he is, his past, and who he will become.
1. Chapter 1

**Getting There and Keeping Going**

 **Chapter 1**

Romano Vargas sat at the airport looking out at the city before him. The sun, the heat, the color, there it all was before him. It dulled the city he left and even the previous events of his life.

Romano Vargas was an ordinary Italian-American from an ordinary American city. He was nineteen years old.

Romano Vargas had just finished high school. While everyone else had dreams of being doctors, teachers, politicians…he had one dream. In all of his gloomy existence, in his gloomy town where football was the Olympics, burgers were gourmet, and cheerleaders caught the eye of almost every guy in his little school in that gloomy town, in all of this, Romano wanted to escape. Where did Romano decide to go?

As he looked out, he realized he actually did it, even if just for a little while. He just hoped Spain would answer his prayers.

Romano grabbed his luggage and started out of the airport and towards a familiar family he only knew from photographs. This was his host family, the family he would be living with for the next two months. It wasn't a traditional family, but he was happy about that, as he wouldn't consider himself a very traditional person. It was simply a single French man named Francis Bonnefoy who liked wine, roses, and hot guys, as Francis had said, himself, as he was introducing himself on the host family website.

"Mon ami, Romano! Over hear!" he yelled as Romano began to make his way over, slightly angry as Romano obviously had already seen him.

"Frenchie! I'm not stupid or deaf, I already saw you…idiota." He yelled and then whispered the extra insult under his breath.

Romano pulled his one heavy suitcase, his only suitcase stuffed with every piece of clothing he owned because there was never a time when he didn't want to be caught stylish, along behind him, and set it down with a groan in front of Francis.

"Oh, mon ami, let me help you with zhat," Francis stated, before he simply lifted the heavy case over his shoulder with ease and began strutting away toward his car. Romano, with no other choice, followed along, a bit shocked and angry at how pathetic he probably looked when he had lifted the suitcase with so much difficulty.

They finally got to the car, a red convertible, and Romano, still angry, got in the front seat passenger side. Francis slid in beside him, into the driver's side to drive them home, but not before trying to start a conversation.

"So, mon cher, how was your flight? I hope it was alright, but judging by the look on your face, it doesn't seem like it went that well." Francis asked Romano with evident concern in his voice.

"It was fine." Romano said with a humph.

"Oh but, mon cher, it doesn't seem like it was fine, unless somezing happened after," Francis then leaned in and touched Romano's cheek, "Is there somezing I can do to help?" he asked with a clear tone of seduction in his voice.

Romano jerked away, his head hitting the tan leather seats.

"Stay away from me you French bastard!" he exclaimed, suddenly a little scared to be in a car with this man, to be going home to stay with this overly-stimulated and passionate man. Francis had clear blue eyes that looked like pure pools of spring water, wavy blonde hair that turned this pure water to waves of the ocean, and a lean and toned, muscled body that turned even that beautiful ocean to drops of exertion after the most intimate of things. Romano could tell that Francis didn't just like sex, but he was the living embodiment of it. And Romano wanted no part of it.

Romano definitely wanted passion. He wanted to fall in love with sights, smells, and feelings. He wanted to feel senses he hadn't felt before, and he wanted to cling to these senses. He did not, want sex. He didn't want to use his body that way, ever. He came to the conclusion that he wanted more, and coming to this country would mean that. Would he ever feel these things? Romano didn't know, but a part of the reason he came to this country was to find out.

The car ride was endurable. Francis soon learned to back off and realized that Romano would only be an _ami_ to him, and he therefore pushed no more. Romano experienced the classic movie moment of driving with the top down in the city he knew he would fall in love with, and all seemed peaceful. He saw mosaic tiles, colors, stucco buildings, and people. Real people. Real people who baked things, and hugged their real friends, who napped in the middle of the grass in the middle of the park without a care in the world, who created art to sell in the street, who kissed people on their cheeks. These were real people, and, for the first time in Romano's nineteen years, he was excited to meet them.

The car came to a sudden stop in front of an apartment complex. Francis lived slightly out of the city, but only slightly. It was a beautiful, artsy district. The complex wasn't brown and brick, it was orange and yellow stucco, with balconies that had small flower pots attached, and people who stood out of them to yell an, 'Hola' to any random passerby.

They both exited the car and entered the seemingly unlabeled building, with its vines that grew around the door knob, up the door, and onto a small balcony above them. The interior had yellow, flowered wallpaper, an antique couch, a red and tasseled rug, but these weren't the main features that Romano noticed. He noticed the sunlight pouring in through the windows. The sunlight that basked both of them in a warmth that Romano had never felt before. Usually, Romano became depressed on sunny days, but this wasn't a sunny day. The sun was not shining through that window. That wasn't even a window that this light was pouring through. This was Romano's soul getting a cleansing. He felt the light's warmth seep through him, through his skin, and felt clean for the first time in months. He felt excepted. He felt possible. He felt pure.

Romano stood in awe of what was happening to him. Francis noticed, gave the other man a moment, and decided to speak.

"The sunlight is like no other, no?'

All anger flooded from Romano's veins and was evaporated into the air as the light hit him. It felt as if he finally knew why his hometown depressed him so. It felt as if this whole country's anger was evaporated by their magnificent sun and precipitated into the gloom of his home, into Romano's bloodstream. He smiled at the thought and replied, "The warmth is like no other."

"Oui, zhat is why I decided to live in it." Francis replied. He then went back to the car to get Romano's suitcase. Francis then entered the apartment again and began walking. He suddenly stopped when he didn't hear the patter of footsteps against the old carpet. He turned his back, "Are you coming, mon ami?"

"Si."

Romano followed the blonde man down a dark hallway until he reached a small room with a bed, desk, and bedside table. The floors were smooth dark wood and almost black in color, the bed had a hunter green frame, the desk and bedside table were a matching light brown wood, the walls were an unintimidating, peaceful, yet mature yellow. Romano felt like he could take a bite out of the walls, this whole room really, and taste a homemade, slowly cooked grilled cheese sandwich that would make even the pickiest eater close their eyes for a second and let out a loud moan. The pillows, sheets, and blankets were a pale white, with an almost lacy embroidery decorating them, and they simply felt like a home a hopeless child would run into and crawl under its covers of safety and love. This felt like home. Romano, in all of his nineteen years, felt at home.

"I know it's not much, but zis will be your room. My room is just beside yours and the bathroom is just down the ze hall. It's not a very spacious house, but I try to make it a good home. If you need anything, I'll probably be in my study, the small space next to ze kitchen. Of course, you are an adult, so you are free to explore all you would like. I know I'm a bit older, but I hope you can see me as a friend."

"Of course," Romano replied.

"Well, zhat is all. I 'ave a bit of work to do, mon ami, but when I am finished I will cook us a lovely celebratory dinner. Is around six okay?'

"Sounds great."

"D'accord. Well, I'll be off then." Francis then made his way toward the kitchen, to a small makeshift room separated off by floral golden curtains. 'Did Francis give up his study for me to stay with him?' Romano wondered. He also wondered, if so, why Francis would've done that for him, when he easily could've stayed with anyone else in Spain. He stopped his wondering, not wanted to stress over it too much. While in this country he agreed with himself never to worry about anything, or at least that he would try his very best. There wasn't a burden on his shoulders here. Here, he was simply Romano Vargas, he wanted to see Spain, so he did. He wasn't the weird, 'probably gay', kid from a small area connected to a bigger city that wasn't even an important big city. 'Stop worrying about all of that' he then told himself. He wasn't there anymore, and he wouldn't return for two months.

He made his way back to his room to contemplate what to do with his time. It felt so strange to him that he was an adult. He was an adult with two hours to kill, some money in his pocket that both gave him freedom and limited him to only two months in this glorious country, and he was an adult who could, finally, do whatever he wanted.

What did he do? What did Romano Vargas decide to do with his newfound freedom? Why, he went to the outside of the complex and basked in the afternoon sunset, its pinks, oranges, and purples beginning to reveal themselves in the midst of the yellow blanket that had its spotlight at noon and the few hours after. He was at peace, after so long. He joined many others who were either just relaxing or taking a late afternoon siesta until dinner was ready, just as he planned to do.

Romano was calmly shaken out of this state, because nothing was sudden or rash in this country, Romano decided, by footsteps. He was somewhat used to hearing this because of the wavelike excitement of the people surrounding him, but these stood out because they were headed to the apartment he was staying in.

Romano looked up and saw a handsome man with tan skin, bright green eyes, and a happy and sweet disposition. All of a sudden, Romano was intrigued. Romano could tell this man was one of the men he saw on the way to this apartment as he looked out of the red convertible about an hour earlier. Maybe not specifically, but this man was one of the men who hugged his friends when he saw them, who baked fresh bread and other delicacies Romano waited to try, and who kissed his friends on the cheeks to greet them. This man was a breath of fresh, cool air in the warm sunlight of Spain. Romano would meet this man, he decided, and he would breath this man in like there was no tomorrow, like he would never leave this country, or, better yet, like he would leave this country the moment the man exited his life. Yes, Romano would take this man in just like he took in the sunlight's warmth, let him seep through his skin to purify everything he once knew or was, and remember the feeling, make the feeling home, and visit it whenever he could, even if it was just that. A feeling.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Antonio. Antonio was this man's name. He had a smile that shamed the sun's light, skin that looked like coffee stained paper, and eyes were the color of dewy grass after a light rain. Romano sat across the table that night knowing just these things.

Francis made pasta that night, and Romano had to admit, for someone who wasn't Italian, Francis could cook pasta very well. Romano could see Francis making many men happy. But not him.

This city made Romano happy. The background faces made him happy. The siestas calmed his heartbeat from all this happiness. Romano wasn't alone or lonely, he had his thoughts and his newfound happiness.

This was all Romano needed.

Then, why was his heart suddenly beating to butterflies fluttering in his stomach as he sat across from Antonio?

"'ow is the food, mes amis?"

"Fabuloso! As always, of course. Now, to the reason I really came here," Antonio looked really serious, it freaked Romano out a little. Suddenly, Romano felt a hand on the back of his chair and looked up, surprised. He saw a smiling man looking down on him. Antonio's goofy grin didn't leave his face, "I wanted to meet your new roommate, amigo!"

Romano couldn't help but smile at this. Normally, he would feel suffocated by this amount of affection aimed at him. Not because he didn't like it, but because it never felt real to him. He always felt like an outcast, and was never sure why. In that very moment, he wasn't sure why his old, rusty, football town did that to him, and why this sunny, colorful, and cheerful town suddenly made the attention feel real. Or was it just Antonio? Or was it both? Both complementing each other, in a way. Either way this was real to him. He liked Antonio just as he liked Francis. They were warm, nonjudgmental, and real. These were real people that struggled just like Romano did, that triumphed in ways Romano wanted to, that still looked at little people like him and were happy to meet him. They were happy to meet him, and Romano believed every word of it.

"Well, 'is name is Romano. He's quite the feisty cute thing, I must say," Francis winked at him. Romano was off, again.

Romano spluttered words to make the situation seem less strange, less misunderstood, "It's not what you probably think! It's none of that! He just leaned in, and, said some stuff, and helped me with…"

Antonio calmly raised his hand to stop the boy's explanations. With a small smile he simply stated, "Francis can come on a little strong." Antonio then simply exited the room and made his way to the kitchen to grab the cake Francis made for dessert. Romano watched in awe as the man walked off, a slight blush on his cheeks. Romano, always being the argumentative type to always fight tooth and nail for the last word, was in awe that the Spaniard could simply walk off, and with that, the argument, explanations, and talk of the matter ended. Romano knew right then and there that Antonio didn't aim to captivate a room, not at all, he just did. Romano didn't aim to let his heart subtly flutter, it just did.

Francis, still across from Romano, took notice of this. The corners of his mouth turned up as he quickly glanced to the kitchen, then back to Romano.

"'e is quite enchanting isn't 'e?" Francis asked.

"What?!" Romano snapped out of the trance he had been in since Antonio left the room. "I don't know anything about him!"

"Oui, but zhat never stopped my heart from growing trois sizes." He said this as he held up three finger. "Sometimes, ze heart iz ahead of ze mind in zhat aspect."

Romano sat, stunned, his mouth gaping open. Francis took note of the soft footsteps padding across the tan, carpeted floor before swiftly leaning over the table, where his lips were inches from Romano's ear.

"One zing, an important zing. 'e is single, and interested in men."

If Romano thought he was gaping at this point, his jaw almost hitting the floor put shame to the first time.

"What?!" Romano screamed, but this came out as only a whisper.

Francis glanced at Romano with a knowing smile, then to Antonio with a perfectly sliced cake in his hands. "Antonio!" Francis said. "You didn't 'ave to do zhat! You are a guest!" Francis said this with a mock anger, hidden with an open mouth smile. Romano suddenly knew exactly what Francis was insinuating just a few seconds before.

Antonio liked books, but more than books, Antonio liked people. Antonio liked the feeling in his fingers when he strummed his guitar more than hearing the music that came out of it. He really liked the lazy catnaps, siestas, he took every day at lunchtime. He worked as manager at the small, festive cantina just a few blocks away, and he liked this job. Antonio liked many things, and Romano couldn't imagine Antonio disliking anything, even if he knew that it was impossible to like everything. An echo of doubt resonated through Romano as he couldn't stop the thoughts of, 'He probably wouldn't like me,' or, 'If he liked me, it would be like he likes everyone else.' But, why did Romano even want to be considered special to this man he, still, barely knew?

Romano liked sleeping in on still, quiet Saturday mornings. The type of mornings where it seemed like the whole world decided to be still and sleep also, the type he mourned for when the morning was over. He liked the pale light that shown through blue or white curtains. He liked the feeling of wet dew on his fingers, but would swear at and probably murder the man who ever let that dew touch his feet. Romano liked atmosphere, the feeling of serenity just from the place around him. Romano liked movies. Romano liked watching fantasy situations that he could only imagine happening to him.

The dinner was eventful. Antonio had smiled and bid Francis and Romano an "Adios" and a kiss on each of their cheeks, and exited the door. The lights were dim as the sun sank into the ground, resting for the night as the moon prepared to take over, and Francis stood in front of Romano. Francis had, earlier, changed into a flowy, white button down shirt and casual, perfectly fit, light pink pants that hugged his body perfectly. Romano took notice of this as they both stood with the front door as their backdrop, but this isn't what had caused the vivid, undying blush on his face. The blush that had surfaced when Antonio had delicately taken his jawline in his calloused, strong fingers, and kissed each of Romano's cheeks. Francis noticed this. Francis seemed to notice everything, Romano came to the conclusion.

"Mon ami, your cheeks are just the loveliest color of rouge."

Francis's sudden vocalizations seemed to bring Romano back to the present. He wanted to say something about it, Romano wanted to retort so badly, but he couldn't think of anything.

Francis just humbly smiled. He turned, entered the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of wine, and two glasses.

"Wine, mon cher?"

"Yes." Romano said, without thinking. He wasn't technically allowed to drink yet in the U.S., and he wasn't sure about Spain, but he was with Francis who hadn't steered him wrong yet, so he decided to trust him a bit and let go of some of society's rules, just for a while at least. That is what he came to Spain for, afterall.

Francis sauntered his way over and handed the glass to Romano. Francis took a sip out of his, licked his lips, and looked over at Romano, who had just, innocently, let his lips gently touch the glass and his tongue glide into the red liquid, almost hesitantly.

"Mon ami, I drink wine every night. Now, I don't recommend zhat for everyone, but I zhink it would do you some good, no? Wine is both a pure and mature zhing, don't you think? It is so innocent, but then it ages, and becomes delicacy. Mon cher, I believe you could be like wine."

Francis was still staring off into the distance when Romano couldn't help but question the Frenchman a bit. "You do?" he asked.

"Oui." Francis smiled, and turned his head to Romano to show him this smile, to reassure him. "I don't know what it is about you, but you 'ave somezhing. A definite youthful charm, but zhere's somezhing more, and I can't put my finger on it. I think Antonio sees it too."

Romano couldn't help but smile at the thought. "You barely know me, how could you assume that?"

Francis simply repeated what he had said at dinner. "Sometimes, the heart iz ahead of zhe mind." Francis then swallowed the rest of his glass. He turned to Romano. "I am going to bed. Bonne nuit, mon cher."

"Goodnight, Francis." Romano said.

Romano used to think there was one way a person could smile. Antonio proved him wrong. Antonio had a smile for everything. 'He has to,' Romano figured, 'He's never not smiling.'

Yes, Romano had gotten to know Antonio a bit more since their first dinner together. It turned out that Francis and Antonio were best friends in college, and that friendship had continued to the present day. Romano found out that they were both very nice men, and he decided to fear nothing when with them. They both showed him more of their city as the week went on, Francis showed him more of his amazing hospitality and cooking, and Antonio showed him more of his infinite smiles.

And, after a full week of being shown these things, Romano felt even more at home, felt even more for this place, and felt even more for the stranger with the tan skin, bright green eyes, and the happy and sweet disposition. But through this knowledge, more questions formed in his mind. With all that Francis, Antonio, and the rest of this city had shown him, what would he show to them, to the city? What would he show Antonio to match the sweet man's millions of smiles? What would Romano do in this freedom that is two months in this warm city, with all of its warm people, food, and all of those smiles, from toothy grins, to smirks, to the smile that evolved from holding back the most joyous and deep laughter Romano had ever heard? What would Romano do?

Romano let his wandering thoughts do just that as he turned over in his white bedspread that didn't appear white in the pitch black that was nighttime in his bedroom. He let his stream of thoughts ride down the road he imagined in his mind as he also imagined himself as a simple man sitting on his front porch, watching the cars that were his thoughts go by. It was the only thing that he could do to make himself fall asleep, for the room was much too hot to be comfortable to fall immediately asleep in, but Romano decided that this didn't really matter because, all of a sudden, he liked his thoughts.

For the first time in his nineteen years, he actually kind of liked the growl in his stomach and saliva that metamorphosed itself on his tongue when he thought of the cuisine there, he like the sweat that dropped down his chest and forehead when he thought of the warm sun in Spain that greeted him every day like a sweet and protective mother, and he liked the instant fluttering of his heart when he thought of Antonio and not just everything that surrounded _himself_ , but the things that surrounded Antonio whenever Romano saw him.

 _'_ _Sometimes, the heart is ahead of the mind.'_

That was always the last thought that made its way through Romano's mind before sleep completely overtook him, and the first thing Romano would think when he opened his eyes in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Hands. Tan, calloused fingers, with rough finger nails and red palms. These were Antonio's hands. Whenever Antonio kissed Romano goodbye, he felt these hands on his cheeks, whenever Antonio led him somewhere in the vast city they lived in in, Romano felt these fingers enclosing around his wrist, forearm, or elbow. These hands had a story, and Romano knew it. These hands touched many cheeks daily, touched many shoulders, many strings of many guitars, and crept their way into Romano's mind just as Antonio's smile had. They were everywhere, and when Romano felt them, he absorbed every touch and effect from those touches, yet the minute they made their way to their rightful owner Romano forgot a lot of those effects.

Another week had passed. Romano finally got around to calling his parents by then, and he made it through the dull conversation. It was like Romano was doing everything and nothing at all. He saw so many new things in the short time he had been there, he had met people, he had new experiences, and he knew it. But, on paper, or in conversation, this came out to be nothing at all. This was what he lived in, not a vacation where he was a simple tourist, Romano refused to think of this experience, or himself, like that. So, when things become so normal to you, how do you explain 'adventures' you've been on? 'How is this even normal?' Romano wondered.

'How is this normal?' Romano continued the thought. He looked around and repeated the simple thought in his mind like a mantra. 'How is this normal?' Upon looking behind him, as if the answer would reveal itself where his blind spot had been for the past thirty minutes or so, the only indication of an answer he received was Antonio and Francis making their way over to him, closing a wrought iron gate behind them.

They were in a garden about two hours away from their home city. Antonio and Francis thought it would be a good idea to go on for a weekend vacation where there was 'a change in atmosphere' as they called it. It certainly differed from the warm tones and pure sun of the only other part of Spain Romano knew. This place was cooler, in every aspect of the word. Instead of yellows, and oranges, and reds, Romano saw blues, and greens, and whites when he squinted his eyes under the same hot sun he became used to. There were less people out and about, and more people seemed to move with more of a purpose, yet not sickeningly like those from his hometown. The people here moved to a specific destination like conquistadors exploring the New World. They had an idea of what they sought after, and they let this idea take them to both what they were looking for and new discoveries they couldn't even imagine. The people in his hometown moved from place to place, errand to errand, like pirates, fighting the tide of what's natural in life, fighting each other in pursuit of one specific treasure they could visualize on a map, marked with an 'X'. They would step on others for this one treasure, find it, and immediately leave as to not get stepped on, themselves. They would return to the gloom that they came from, and they would rinse, and they would repeat. The conquistador people here knew there is always more to find, so they wanted to keep searching, and enjoy it. There wasn't much of a rush and conflicts were solved in minor ways, as they were usually a misunderstanding that people were able enough to understand, anyway.

The cool garden area enclosed Romano in green, a color he hadn't seen a large quantity of since he left his old town, but he liked this green. This green was the green he imagined walking alongside in the early morning hours if he would ever get himself out of bed, which he never had. This was the green he imagined his own peaceful landscape of a world in. Because of these previous thoughts of his many years of his almost ending adolescence, it was strange that Romano didn't snap when Francis and Antonio had decided to join him in his 'world' when they entered the gate, because, normally, Romano would've boiled with anger.

'Maybe the sun here really does absorb anger.' Romano couldn't help but think back to one of his first inquiries. He looked up at the two men before him and couldn't help but glance at the ambitious green eyes of the tanner man.

'Or maybe it's those green eyes that complement this world.'

The three had a picnic that afternoon. They spread out a red and white blanket with various geometric shapes on it and sat in the very grassy spot that allowed the green of the woodlands to engulf them in its gentle, almost water-like, coolness, with the hot sun beating down on them to balance the cold. Romano imagined this garden in the morning, and how dewy it must get. Not that he knew anything about things like that, it just seemed like that kind of place, and Romano loved the feeling of wet dew on his fingers. Romano also imagined Antonio being the type of man who woke up early enough to see many of these dewy-finger mornings, and how Antonio might just like to run his fingers along blades of green to feel the soft wetness that contrasted with the rigid warmness of his own hands. Not that he knew these things about Antonio, he just seemed like that kind of person.

The three men talked about everything and nothing at all. Everything in the very heat of the moment, but nothing of value that answered questions about life or the universe, that could, and would, change a person upon hearing or speaking certain words. They had fun, meaningless conversation. Romano liked to believe this ended up being the most meaningful conversation of a person's life. This was solely because it gave those participating joy, and revival in a society fueled by questions like 'What are you going to do next?'. This conversation reminded people of the moment and allowed them to innocently live in it, and what could be more joyful than that?

Two empty wine bottles, one empty, wooden picnic basket, and many men who became offended by Francis trying to take them to his hotel room, "as not to be lonely in my single bedroom' later," as Francis said, and the moon began to show itself. Here, white replaced white as the white heat of the daylight dissolved into the white night, illuminated by an almost too big and noticeable moon that accompanied the darkness that shielded the green that once surrounded Romano, Francis, and Antonio.

"Well, mes amis, I zhink I will have to bid you both adieu, as I'm obviously not getting lucky tonight so I must get my beauty rest to 'ave better chances tomorrow." Francis then stood up, looked back at Antonio and Romano, and slowly, tiredly, and almost drunkenly made his way back to their hotel, just a short walking distance from the garden.

Antonio looked at Romano and smirked.

"Oh, that crazy old man! He wouldn't even make it the night if he got someone in his bed. With all that wine in him he wouldn't even get so far as removing his own button down!"

Romano couldn't help but smile.

"You really think so?" He playfully asked, not quite sure where this sudden playfulness came from.

"Oh, mi amigo, I know so! He's so drunk and tired the most he could do is convince the poor man to cuddle with him as he fell asleep."

Romano laughed at this. A genuine laugh, a rarity. He couldn't remember the last time he let a laugh like this slip, or the last time he even had one in his system. He wished he could blame the wine, but a part of him knew it was probably the person sitting across from him.

"Come for a walk with me." Antonio finally said, after a moment of silence where the only exception was the crickets chirping around them.

Romano finally nodded his head. He stood up.

Antonio was already on his feet when Romano finally looked up from his own sneakers. Antonio was looking at him with something in his eyes that looked, to Romano, like a bit like expectation, but Romano knew that he could easily be wrong.

Romano followed Antonio along a subtle path that would be easily missed if there wasn't roses and edelweiss, a plant Romano knew must've been planted just for the very purpose of illuminating a pathway for walkers to feel as if it wasn't a path that dozens of others walked before them. It was designed to make walkers feel as if they stumbled upon it themselves, and it was made even more special with the appearance of the almost magical edelweiss that adorned the roses and complemented their feminine, beautiful, and graceful features with a still beautiful, but more masculine and sturdy appearance. Romano almost thought of the assortment of color and texture that surrounded them like a waltz in a ballroom all of its own, with the roses twirling and dazzling in the stronger, sturdy, and adorning frame that was the edelweiss.

The two men walked in silence for what felt like ages. Romano heavily enjoyed this. He realized that he liked a silent Antonio just as much as a spirited and talkative one, and he noted how they were so different yet were still, distinctly, Antonio.

"Can I take your hand?"

"What?" Romano was surprised at the sudden question that replaced the silence, yet Romano still couldn't find it in him to mind. "Why?" he simply asked.

"Just this once, I want to be assured that you will follow me, Romano Vargas."

"Ok." Romano let out of his shaky, quivering lip, that he didn't have the sense in that moment to be embarrassed about. His voice was soft, almost as if he were a saxophone with the choice to blare his words and stand out in an either barking or pronounced way, or the choice to appear the simple, woodwind instrument he truly was and make a more orchestral, pretty, yet unpronounced sound whose tone intermingled the symphony that surrounded him in the guise of rustling leaves, buzzing insects, and all of mother nature's inconsistencies that somehow, over millions of years, became consistent.

"No." Antonio said. His tone changed to a slightly louder, brass instrument, like a graceful, yet heavier, French horn.

"What?! But you asked me! Bastard!" It slipped out of Romano's mouth faster than he could've ever prevented his breath to prevent the air to escape, his lips to prevent the formations of the words to take shape. He quickly put his two hands over his cursed mouth, and his eyes widened in obvious shock and apology. This time he didn't ramble and come up with excuses like the last time, when he first met Antonio, and Francis let easily misunderstood words slip. It was almost as if he had learned that Antonio wouldn't let him anyway, he'd simply put his hand up as a gesture to get that version of Romano, who was spilling with emotion, to stop spilling. He would prevent the blaring, barking, pronounced saxophone from striking the wrong chord and ruining the symphony around them. So Romano simply learned not to overbear what was so delicate and seemingly, constantly, surrounding him with Antonio, with even Francis, with even the whole country he inhabited at the time. He, obviously, still was aware he could be this great instrument with its great solos and gaping crowds who heard them, but he was also aware that this crowd, this moment, didn't need to hear that, they simply needed to hear a lullaby to reassure them that they would be okay when everyone else was asleep, when certain flowers cowered for the night, when even Antonio and Romano were safely tucked into their beds.

"Sorry." Romano finally said.

"Do you know what I think it means when someone agrees to follow me?"

"What?" Romano didn't have much energy anymore to say or ask much else.

"It means, that even in this moment, I want you to follow, look, and really listen to what I have to say. I know it's a lot to ask, that's why you will only hear me ask you once or twice in your life." Antonio paused. "So, will you?"

Romano didn't even have to think much or contemplate this. For some reason, it felt like something beyond him pulled him to an answer, pulled him down a path framed by even more roses and edelweiss.

Romano and Antonio found a seat in a small corner of the path that was enclosed in an arc of bushes. Just like the path they had been walking, this felt like their own; this place left no evidence of the probability that many people probably had sat exactly where they were sitting. In a way, Romano felt like this about the whole nation of Spain itself; his experience here felt purely _his_ , and he knew this was special, yet he still found himself wondering exactly why that was, and knew he would continue wondering later that night as he was tossing and turning in his bed, in his too-hot-to-be-comfortable bedroom.

"There is something about you, Romano. I know Francis has already probably told you, but I wanted you to know what I know." Antonio stopped and looked Romano in the eyes. "I know that you've been lost for a while now, and not just average teenage lost, but really lost, in ways that I can't imagine. But, I also have a feeling that you will be found."

Romano normally would've scoffed at this. He would've probably gotten angry, offended, defensive at this man's, practically a stranger's, accusations. But, for some reason the sincerity reflected in Antonio's moonlit eyes caused Romano to simply take a deep breath. Romano let himself feel his diaphragm expand and push against his insides, like he, himself, was a wall that wouldn't let this fresh air or another part of himself escape. As Romano stayed in that country, far from what he had ever known and what had ever known him, he realized that he discovered more than he ever had in his previous nineteen years. In that moment, in particular, he realized that, maybe, Antonio would allow him to discover something else.

"How do you know?" Romano simply asked.

Right then and right there, Romano felt Antonio's tan, calloused fingers, with rough finger nails and red palms, on his jawline, just as he had many times before Antonio would place a small kiss on each of his cheeks to bid him farewell, but all those times, the hands disappeared almost as soon as they grazed Romano's skin. This time, they lingered.

"I know because I've seen many people in my twenty-seven years of existence. I know because I've seen the look in your eyes that leads me to believe many things about you, just as you see the look in my eyes right now as I tell you this. That'll allow you to believe me."

And Romano did see the look in those wondrous, green eyes. They were full of clarity and warmth. They bored into Romano's young and old soul and pinned them both against a wall of truth, with Antonio dragging his own self along by the hands that grasped Romano's chin. It was as if, with this, Antonio said he was with Romano in this truth he saw, and not against him, not saying this to threaten him, just telling him they were on the same page. Because, with all the doubt that lagged in Romano's mind about his self and self-image, Romano believed Antonio for the very reason the older man said he would. Romano could see the evident rawness, and reality in those eyes, just as he could see the realness in this man when he first saw him.

"I do believe you. It's still just shocking, in a way, that you could know and think these things."

"Believe me, as you grow older, talk to more people, open yourself up longer, live life… you'll start knowing these things, too. You already are learning a lot, I can tell. Just in this short time I've known you, you've began to transition from a child to a man, with all its freedoms and limitations. I've seen it with you and Francis, with how you wander off by yourself, just to lay in the sun, because you know the rest of the world around you isn't leaving anytime soon, something most people your age haven't realized yet."

"Haven't realized what?" Romano asked, needing clarification and reassurance of what he just heard.

"That the world will still be there, that even in many, many moments, many minutes, many hours, the world still will wait; its wonders will still wait for you to find them. The places you're meant to be, you'll go in your time, so there's no need to not smell the roses and…" he paused and smiled as he looked around him, losing his grip on Romano briefly as he took a deep breath, before continuing, "…edelweiss, around you. The people you're meant to meet, whether it's to make your day or to change your life, you will meet when the universe, or God, or some power over us, decides it's right, but you'll only know the difference between those two categories of people after the meeting. Sometimes, you'll only know after many years have passed since that meeting, and, other times, you'll know just seconds after." Antonio paused and looked into Romano's eyes, which held youth, shock, revelation, and, as always, something else in them. Antonio's lips parted and he took in a breath, the corners of his mouth turning upwards ever-so-slightly.

Antonio then continued, his features noticeable, happy, and radiating a genuine smile, "…The people you're meant to kiss while sitting in a garden of roses, edelweiss, and moonlight, a perfect moment for kissing if you ask me... you'll decide whether or not you want to kiss them when the time is right."

Antonio slowly and carefully leaned his head in closer to Romano's, an intimate distance, yet still safe. His already soft and relaxing voice he had used that evening dropping to a faint whisper. Romano could feel the other man's warm breath on his face, on his lips, when Antonio spoke.

"Is the time right, Romano?" Antonio asked.

Romano faintly nodded, and before he knew it he was leaning into Antonio, and Antonio was leaning into him. They closed the short distance between them and their lips locked, as if sealing everything they had talked about, everything Antonio had told Romano. Everything. Romano could feel the other man's body against his in a way that he had never felt another person before, and it felt right. Everything felt right. Everything.

Hands on hands, on arms, and suddenly it's an embrace. Lips on lips, on cheeks, and suddenly Antonio was holding Romano in his safe, strong arms. Legs on legs, on knees, and then they were tangled.

And Romano now looked forward to everything else he would experience where he was. In Spain, with Antonio, as a man with nineteen years behind him. But Romano also loved just this. He loved that very moment, and he savored it. He savored Antonio's soft, experienced, and wise lips on his own. These lips went places, tasted things, talked to people, and yet, led Antonio exactly where Romano's naïve, innocent lips, that were still learning things like their owner, were. The universe, or God, or some power over them gave them that moment, led them there on a path marked with, specially planted, roses and edelweiss. It felt so right.

They didn't want to let go, but the night wore on and on, and suddenly, the white and pure sun began to peak its way through, signaling the daytime. The two, who had comfortably fallen asleep together with their arms locked around one another, just like when they sealed everything the previous night with a kiss, looked into each other's truthful eyes. Filled with understanding, a peck on the lips was both a 'good morning' and a 'farewell for now'. They each made their way to their respective rooms, and slept, happily, for a few more hours.

But not before Romano felt the morning dew on his fingers. He trailed his hand alongside him on the flowered path that he walked along with Antonio, in those early morning hours. As Romano looked over, Antonio was doing was also letting his rough, warm fingers graze the watery dew.

Just as Romano imagined him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Romano loved seeing Antonio cook. The way sweat would drip from his brow, to how he stared intently at a tomato as he diced it, to how he would find time to give Romano a loving glance and a peck on the lips. Yes, Romano loved this.

Romano loved when Antonio finished cooking and he could finally eat whatever delicacy the Spanish man decided to make. Antonio always filled his food with tomatoes, knowing they were Romano's favorite, and Romano would gladly eat every bite. Romano absolutely loved getting to taste new recipes, which were always flawless.

'Can everyone in this country cook?' he wondered.

He didn't have too much time to be stuck in his thoughts though, as he suddenly felt two hands on the bottom of his thighs, pulling him up to sit on the kitchen counter.

"You cook here, you know?!" Romano loudly protested, though, really, he loved getting this kind of affection.

"Oh well, too late now." Antonio said with a shrug as he buried his head in Romano's neck, kissing his way up to his cheeks, and then finally meeting his lips.

Romano loved the smell of Antonio's hair. It smelled like tomatoes, and spices, and like Antonio's wonderful cologne that Romano didn't know the name of. Romano loved running his fingers through the chocolate-brown, wavy locks, and Romano loved the reaction he always got from Antonio when he did this.

It had been another week. In that week, Romano gained new things to tell his parents when they called, not that he would actually tell them about the handsome, older man who made his heart flutter. No, he definitely wouldn't tell them, he decided, not then and maybe not ever. Besides, Francis didn't even really know yet.

Antonio and Romano weren't officially in a relationship. They just kissed and cuddled more than people who were 'just friends' tended to do. Romano tried not to think much of it, but, secretly, it was one of the things that managed to always cross his mind before he fell asleep. He was always scared to bring it up, especially because this new, good thing in his life that showed him love and affection, that Romano wanted to show love and affection to, had just appeared a week ago. At this point, Antonio and Romano were simply testing the waters and seeing if they even liked each other.

Romano definitely liked Antonio, he only questioned if Antonio really liked him. He thought back to their conversation in the garden, about people who either made a person's day or changed their life.

Romano secretly hoped that Antonio was a person to change his life.

After a brief make out session the oven started beeping, telling Antonio that the food was ready. He pulled away to grab two tan colored oven mitts, and pulled the lasagna out of the oven. It smelled delightful and filled the room with a pleasant air. Romano tilted his head back and closed his eyes, just to take in the wonderful aroma. This is how he didn't notice Antonio walking back toward him. Antonio put his hands around Romano's waist and took advantage of the smaller man's wonderment as he passionately kissed his neck. Romano looked down at Antonio with wide, bewildered eyes, and instead of protesting or even saying anything at all, he just softly smiled. Antonio pulled away and returned the gesture; the corners of his eyes turned up and formed creases. Romano loved seeing these creases; they reminded him of how old and young Antonio was, mentally and physically, and Romano also thought they simply made the Spanish man look even more handsome.

"Dinner's ready." Antonio said softly. The smile lingered on his face but his eyes relaxed a bit. His movements became slower as he drew himself closer to Romano, his arms pulling the smaller man's waist to his own. It was as if Antonio was trying to take in every moment of being this close to Romano, or at least Romano hoped. Romano's legs wrapped around the long, toned torso in front of him, and before he knew it, he was being lifted off the table.

Antonio carried him all the way to the dinner table in the small dining room. He gently set Romano down and pulled out a chair for him to sit in. Romano sat and Antonio walked to the kitchen to grab the lasagna. Antonio had already set out the silverware and their plates.

They had a lovely dinner full of nonchalant and fun conversation. Romano loved just talking to Antonio just as much as kissing and cuddling him. He had a deep, warm, and welcoming voice, that felt like an embrace upon hearing it. It made Romano feel like he had been left in the cold for so long, until this voice pulled him to the warmth of a fire. This, over the past few days, became a usual routine. Francis had a brief work trip that sent him back to his hometown, Paris, for those few days, so Antonio gladly had been letting Romano spend time with him. Romano couldn't help but feel like a child still, because if he wasn't with one older man he seemed to be with another, but Antonio never treated him that way. Francis, on the other hand, was turning out to be more of an older brother to Romano, making him feel safe, yet letting him experience adult things that accompanied being of age in that country, but there was also something…protective...about Francis's demeanor. Romano didn't really mind, though, as he could imagine himself feeling very lost in that new place without Francis.

At the end of the night, Antonio and Romano walked to Antonio's tall, old, wooden front door. His whole house seemed to burst with life with its vibrant colors and, seemingly, hundreds of paintings on the wall. It was a beautiful, chaotic, yet flowy, and, somehow, organized mess. It reminded Romano of a lot of the things that he adored about Antonio.

The two men stood at the door, with the plaque above it that Romano couldn't quite read yet, and looked into each other's eyes before speaking.

"Are you sure you can make it home okay?" Antonio caringly, softly, asked.

"Si. I will be fine, I always am."

"Well then, I guess this is until tomorrow?" Antonio asked.

"Si."

Antonio then placed his hands on Romano's chin and tilted it upward. He looked deeply into the smaller man's colorful eyes until placing a kiss on Romano's right cheek, then his left, then on his lips. He quickly pulled away, too quickly for Romano's liking, and gave Romano one of his infinite smiles.

Romano quickly arrived back to his and Francis's apartment, and yes, he had gotten into the habit of calling it his, fore he had never felt more at home then he did while staying there. Francis still wasn't back, but Romano knew that he would return in a few hours, or, at least, that's what Francis told him earlier that day (when Romano's buzzing phone woke him and Antonio up from their extra-long siesta together). In the meantime, Romano decided to clean the place up a little. It hadn't gotten that dirty, because Romano had been spending most of his time at Antonio's, but Romano still dusted and vacuumed the floors. He then got in the shower and had just began putting his pajamas on when he heard Francis entering the door.

"Romano! I'm home!" Francis walked in and looked around for the younger man. When he didn't see him he yelled again, "Romano, where are you?"

"I'm right here!" Romano came running in the room in just his white wife-beater and boxers.

"Oh, zhere you are!" Francis then walked over to Romano and threw his arms around him. "I've missed you! Have you been doing well? I'm so sorry I had to leave! I…" Francis stopped mid-sentence when something caught his eye. He pulled back and gave Romano a knowing smile.

Romano then straightened his clothes a bit and looked at Francis, a bit shocked, and he wondered if he knew. "I've been well." Romano finally said.

"Oui. I can tell." Francis said, and then walked away. He grabbed a bag off the kitchen counter, that Romano hadn't noticed, and handed it to him. "Zhis is for you."

Romano's eyes then widened. "You didn't have to do this." He finally said.

"Oui, but I wanted to, and it'z nothing much."

Romano opened it and saw that it indeed was much. It was a camera, a nice camera at that. It was dark black and shiny, with a ginormous lens, many complicated buttons, and a black, leather neck strap to match. It was beautiful, and it looked very expensive.

"Why did you get me this?" Romano asked.

"Becauze, I've noticed how much you like to look at zhings, observe what's around you. I figured you could take some lovely pictures here."

"Thank you." Romano simply said.

"De rien." Francis said.

They grabbed a bottle of wine and sat on the sofa. Ever since that first night that Romano drank with Francis, it seemed to become part of his nightly routine. They never drank excessively, but Romano had to admit that he liked the taste of the red drink, and the way it felt when it made its way down his throat.

"So, how was your trip?" Romano asked.

"Tres bein! I mean, the work was quite boring, but seeing Paris again was amazing!" Francis dreamily said.

"Do you ever think of moving back to Paris?"

"Non! Non, of course not! I love Paris, don't get me wrong. But, zis is my home. I don't see myself living anywhere else, even Paris." Francis passionately said; his accent got thicker as the sentence went on and more wine settled into his body.

Romano smiled at this. They sat for moment in silence, just enjoying their wine and sensing the heat that was Spain at night. It was hot and stuffy, yet, for some reason, Romano couldn't help but visualize this as his home, too. Not just Francis's apartment, but Spain itself. It made him think about seeing the hot, Spanish sun every day, the artwork in the streets, the smiling people…and all these thoughts led him to one resulting picture of one person, Antonio.

"Francis, you write romance novels for a living, don't you?' Romano asked.

"Oui." Francis simply answered. A part of him wondered where this was going.

"Then, why are you single?" Romano asked in the nicest way possible, because he was simply, genuinely, wondering. In that moment, he reminded Francis of a little kid, questioning the adults that are part of their lives, wanting to simply understand something about the elder's life that he simply couldn't wrap his head around.

Francis smiled. "I am single becauze I haven't found ze person to spend the rest of my life with." He paused, then a look of concern appeared on his face.

"Iz that mark on your neck a reason why you are asking?" he kindly asked Romano.

"What?!" Romano quickly became weary of his neck, trying to find whatever Francis might've seen. He finally spotted a giant bruise on his collar bone that he knew was from his day with Antonio. He desperately tried to think of something to say to Francis, but before he could, Francis began talking again.

"I see you haven't been lonely after all." Francis smiled. "May I ask who, mon ami?"

"It…it was…um" Romano looked down, not sure what Francis's reaction would be with him making out with Francis's best friend. He was a bit scared to look the older man in the eye.

"It was Antonio," Romano softly said.

"Aw, I figured." Francis simply said, again, with a knowing smile.

"And you're not mad?" Romano carefully asked, still a bit shocked by the other's reaction.

"Non, of course not! Truth be told, I saw it from ze beginning."

"Oh well, thank you."

"But I don't think zhat's what we were originally talking about. You want advice, oui?"

"…yes, actually." Romano quietly, uncertainly said.

"Well zhen ask away!" Francis happily declared.

"Ok, well, the thing is, I think…I know I really like Antonio, I just don't know if he really likes me, or not. I don't want him to…to just want to make out with me, you know? And, I know he's a great guy, that's why I really like him, but…" Romano stuttered, uncomfortably, along. He had never opened himself up like that, and he felt so…exposed. Luckily, Francis didn't seem to mind at all.

Francis put his hand on the smaller's shoulder and gave him a comforting look. Romano couldn't help but think of how much of an older brother Francis really was to him in that moment.

"Don't worry, mon ami. You are wonderful, and I know Antonio seez the same. You 'ave come into both of our lives like a ray of sunshine. You would never expect it, especially from him, but, before you came he seemed a little…like he waz going through zhe motions. He would use his amazing smile all day, every day, and it became ze same. No other emotion, just zhat. We both would both wake up, go to work, and get ready for ze next day. You came and reminded us of ze city we live in, of what it iz like to be young again. I zhink if zhere is any 'esitation on Antonio's part then it iz because of some crazy zhing that's running through _'is_ mind, nozhing to do with you. Just give 'im time, but not too much. Sometimez, I'm afraid, you have to pry it out of poor Antonio, mon ami."

"Thank you." Romano finally said, very grateful for Francis's words and acceptance. Francis then stood up, about to go to bed.

Before he left the room, Francis turned back to Romano, as if remembering something. "Oh, and Romano?"

"Yes?"

"I 'ave concealer zhat'll match your skin tone zhat you can use to cover ze spot on your neck. And, az someone who cares about you very dearly, I must stress being careful with zhat kind of thing," Francis said the last part as he gestured to Romano's neck.

Romano's eyes widened. 'Had Francis just insinuated that he thought Romano had sex with Antonio?' Romano wondered. Romano certainly had not, and didn't know if he was ready for that kind of thing, especially since he didn't really know where he and Antonio stood. So many thoughts echoed through his head as he made his way to his bedroom.

'That's it, tomorrow I will ask Antonio about all of this.' Romano thought to himself, unable to stand the suspense any longer.

"Bonne nuit!" he heard Francis tell him from across the hall.

"Good night!" Romano called back to him, thankful to have him as a 'big brother'.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Romano woke with his beating, anxious heartbeat, that made him aware of the sunlight peeking through the apartment's windows. He was excited at the possibility of being on the same page as Antonio, of officially being with him, or at least working toward it, but he was also nervous. 'What if I'm rejected? What if he just considered it a fling while Francis was away? What if he just doesn't want to be with me?', these thoughts filled his mind as anxiety took over. He knew that, eventually, he would be leaving Spain to attend college in America, and the very thought of leaving began to make him sick. He knew that Antonio knew this was all temporary, as well. He had been there exactly one month when he woke up that morning, and the thought of his adventure, his life, there being halfway over made him nauseous, and a bit broken.

'No, I still have a whole month. I'm not thinking about this now.' He made himself think.

"Romano! I made breakfast!" Romano heard Francis yelling from the kitchen.

Upon hearing this, he smelt a delicious, sweet, smell. He didn't realize his mouth was watering until he started getting out of bed and felt the drool on his chin.

'Well, that's attractive, Romano. Gonna let Antonio kiss that?' he sarcastically said to himself as he wiped his face and made his way out of his room.

He was greeted by a fully dressed Francis, who had on nice, tan colored pants and a pastel pink, flowy, satin shirt. By then, Romano had gotten used to the abundance of pink in the older man's wardrobe, and it was so apparent that him and Antonio would even bet on what article of clothing Francis would wear next that contained the sweet color.

"My Francis, you're looking fancy today. You have a date?" Romano questioned as he sat in his place at the table.

"Non, mon amis, but I believe that you do." Francis simply said as he put a tray of crescents, jam, and various pastries on the table. He poured both of them a cup of coffee and finally had a seat, himself, across from a very shocked Romano.

"Francis, what did you do?" the younger questioned.

"Nothing! My, I thought you had more faith in me zhan zhat!" Francis said with a, fake, hurt expression on his face. He finally calmed down and said, "No, I just thought zhat you would like to see Antonio today, zhat's all. I am going out to run some errands and zhought I could either give you a ride, or be out of ze apartment for a _very_ long time, if you know what I mean." Francis said the last part with a sneaky smile.

"Francis! I'll have you know that Antonio and I don't do anything that would require _what you mean._ " Romano impersonated Francis's accent on the last bit.

Francis then started laughing. He threw his head back and covered his mouth.

"What's so funny?" Romano asked, a little worried for his French friend.

Francis couldn't help but let a few giggles escape as he tried to calm himself and answer Romano.

"I know you two 'aven't had _sex_ , petit frère! I was talking about zhat conversation you need to 'ave with 'im." Francis then leaned in, whispering in Romano's ear, "…unless you want me to be out long enough for _zhat_."

Romano's cheeks burned red at that. He pulled himself away so fast that the he almost fell backwards in his chair.

"No! Definitely not… that!" Romano defensively exclaimed.

Francis calmly took a bite out of his crescent, then he looked toward Romano, who was still standing a few feet away from the table.

"Romano, you look like a you just saw a ghost. Come eat." Francis said with a calming smile on his face.

Romano then slowly made his way back to the table. He sat down and picked up a pastry. Its sugary, yet light flavor calmed his nerves.

They sat and ate for a few more minutes until both finished, and Romano picked up the plates and began washing them at the kitchen sink. Suddenly, a disturbing thought made its way into Romano's mind.

"Francis?" Romano questioned the man, who, by then, was sitting at the kitchen's island with his laptop open, hair tide back, and reading glasses on.

"Hmm?" Francis let out, still focused on what he was typing.

"How…How did you know Antonio and I didn't…you know…"

Francis smiled, finished typing something, and turned to Romano.

"Simple, mon cher, your walking 'asn't changed at all."

At this Romano ran to the other man and playfully hit him a few times. Francis was giggling uncontrollably the whole time.

"What!? How did you…! How could you…! …FRANCIS!" Romano let out in-between punches.

"It'z true! And I was right, non?" Francis said, still smiling and giggling.

Gosh, Romano knew he was really going to miss Francis when he left.

'Don't think about that stuff, Romano!' Romano, again, had to tell himself.

When everything had calmed down, Romano and Francis were back to their usual, comfortable, silence. Romano was just about to leave to see Antonio when Francis stopped him.

"I forgot to tell you. Be nice but clear when you let your intentions be known. Antonio iz a wonderful person to talk to, but 'is 'appy attitude can cause 'im to not see the full meaning of what you are saying. But 'e's also very sensitive, so try not be come off as…to 'arsh. Okay?" Francis asked.

"Of course."

Romano was just about to exit the front door when Francis called him again.

"Romano!"

Romano turned back to the Frenchman.

"Yes?"

"I forgot to tell you that I some relatives are coming over for dinner tonight. I'd like you to meet ma famille, so can you be back by dinner?" Francis asked.

"Sure."

Romano had just reached the doorknob when Francis, once again, called him.

"Romano?" he asked this time. When Romano turned around, slightly frustrated, he saw sincerity and warmth in the elder's crystal blue eyes. There was a small smile on Francis's face, and his overall body language came across as more…caring, concerned, even, with a hint of what looked like… 'maybe nervousness, or maybe even happiness," Romano thought. This very look caused Romano's demeanor to change from slightly irritated to concerned, ready to listen to what Francis had to say.

Francis came closer to Romano and wrapped him in a warm, comforting embrace. He whispered in Romano's ear.

"You are wonderful. Whatever 'appens, whatever surprises come along, you are my ray of sunshine. You will always be zhat, and you will always be mon petit frère."

Romano looked up at his Francis, his older brother.

"Thank you." He whispered back.

Romano was instantly welcomed into Antonio's home upon the first knock on his wooden door. Antonio immediately swung the door open and, within seconds, had Romano in his arms.

"I've missed you so much! How have you been?" Antonio asked between giving Romano little kisses on his cheeks.

"I've been fine." Romano said while making a face. Antonio was all over him like a puppy when their owner arrived home. As much as Romano pretended he didn't like it though, he couldn't help but smile at the thought, because if Antonio really was a puppy, then that would make this wonderful, colorful, and lively house his, too. He loved the arched entryways, the rough, stucco walls, but most of all, he loved seeing the lively man who lived in it. This thought led him to the purpose he came here.

'I have to tell him. I have to ask him.' Romano thought to himself.

After a moment of Romano's heart rate increasing, his nervousness flooding him all over again, he cleared his throat.

"Um, Antonio?" he asked.

Antonio looked back up at him with wide, wondering eyes. Romano definitely could never think of himself as a kid around Antonio, the man had the most innocent demeanor Romano had ever seen. Romano loved seeing this so much. Antonio, even when they were flirting, couldn't help but seem like a kid in a candy store at times; it was like Romano was the sweetest, tastiest piece of candy, that Antonio absolutely had to have. This played through Romano's mind as he summoned the courage to go through with what he was about to say.

Romano took Antonio's hand and led him a short distance to Antonio's open set living room, to his yellow couch with the same red blanket draped across it that Romano, Francis, and Antonio had picnicked on a few weeks ago. Romano sat down and gestured for Antonio to do the same.

Antonio placed his strong, loving hand on Romano's jawline upon seeing the serious, worried look on Romano's face.

"What's wrong, my love?" Antonio asked.

Romano just decided to say it then.

"Just that, Antonio." Antonio suddenly shared the worried expression that Romano did. Romano continued nonetheless.

"I really like you. I mean, I really, really like you. As more than a…friend. I like you as more than a friend, Antonio. I like you as more than a brother, even. I love it when you hold me, and kiss me. I love taking long siestas by your side. I love when you make food for me, and you always fill everything with tomatoes because they're the absolute best food in the whole world," Romano stopped and smiled at this. He was still looking down, too scared to see the look on Antonio's face. His heart was beating so hard it hurt his chest; Romano's heart was beating faster than he even thought possible. But he wanted this. 'I want this.' He told himself. 'I really want this.' So Romano continued, because he at least had to try, because he wanted Antonio, he wanted a life in Spain with Antonio, even if it was just for a little while.

"I know you probably just see me as a kid, or just someone who's willing to make out with you, or something…but I don't want to be just that to you. I want to be more to you, Antonio, if you like me the way I like you. I know I won't be here long, but I think it would be nice to be together, and really together, while I'm here. And I…" Romano was stopped when a pair of lips met his, and a pair of hands held his face to look up to the man he had just confessed to.

Romano stared into those beautiful green eyes, just taking them in, momentarily forgetting about the possible answers he could receive to everything he had let spill out of his mouth. Antonio just looked down at the man in-between in two strong hands, with shiny, dark auburn hair, mysterious hazel eyes, and that something that Antonio couldn't quite put words to, couldn't even make out or characterize, that made Romano Vargas the most amazing, and adorable man Antonio had ever met.

Antonio loved that moment, for that was when he realized that he had fallen in love with that amazing, adorable man.

And how could he have ever denied Romano?

After that moment of just marveling at each other, Antonio's expression finally changed and he spoke.

"Romano. Of course I feel the same. You make me so happy. I look so forward to seeing you every day, showing you something, doing something with you, or just taking a siesta. Seeing the smile on your face lights up my world, Romano. So, of course I want you to be a part of my world, even if it's just for a little while." Antonio felt like he had to add the last part.

Antonio was so happy, yet so devastated at the same time. 'What am I doing?' he thought to himself. He knew Romano would leave soon, go to college, meet someone else there, and begin a new life. Far away from him, with Antonio as a very distant, almost forgotten, memory. He knew they would just become memories of each other, and that's why he kept things so casual. He figured he would remember Romano as the cute American boy, who he grew fond of one summer, but, he figured, that that was never destined to be the case. One look in those hazel, mysterious, old, yet innocent eyes sent him to places he, in his twenty-seven years of living, had never been before, a place he had come to love. And Antonio finally realized that he loved Romano Vargas when it was too late for him to leave that place.

"I have fallen so madly in love with you in this short time, and I want to continue falling in love with you in the time we have left together." Antonio told Romano.

Romano looked up at him in shock, and then finally surrendered to his emotions, tired from all the confessions, heart beats, and nerves that had recently plagued him. He didn't want to question anything anymore that night, for Antonio had told him what he wanted to hear, and he didn't want other answers and questions to ruin that perfect moment. He let his head rest on Antonio's chest, feeling and hearing the other's heart beat as he said, "I love you, too."

They stayed like that for so long they lost track of time. Romano just letting himself rest in Antonio's arms, his head nestled in his chest, as Antonio's arms securely held Romano for dear life as if he was going to leave him immediately. One of Antonio's hands ran through Romano's hair as his lips rested right above Romano's forehead, singing a soft Spanish love song to the smaller man. Romano thought he had drifted off, but wasn't sure until the sound of his cellphone ringing caused him to stir and open his eyes. Antonio carefully unwound his arms from around Romano and let him answer his phone.

"Hello?"

"Romano, where are you? Dinner's almost ready, mon amis!" Francis said, playfully scolding him, into the phone.

Romano just smiled, looking toward Antonio, who had a happy, yet concerned smile on his face.

"Sorry, brother bear, Antonio and I lost track of time."

"Oh hon hon hon!" Francis mockingly laughed. "Does it have somezing to do with our conversation zhis morning?" he mischievously asked.

Romano blushed bright red at this. Antonio saw this and couldn't help but wonder what his boyfriend was talking about.

"No, it does not, Francis! I'll be right over." Romano finally said.

"Bring Antonio if 'e wants to come!" Francis said.

"Are you sure?" Romano asked.

"Of course! I feel like I 'aven't seen 'im in ages, what with zhis _lovely guy_ he might be seeing."

"Okay, Francis. I'll ask him." Romano ended the call, trying to sound normal, but it still felt so surreal, and purely exhilarating and amazing, to think of himself _seeing_ Antonio. He was snapped out of his thoughts when Antonio started speaking.

"What was that about, my little tomato?" he asked, aware of the blush that appeared on Romano's cheeks when he called him the sentiment.

"Oh, Francis is having relatives over and is having dinner at his apartment. He said you can come if you want to."

"I'd love to! I haven't seen his family in forever! _And_ I get to introduce them to _my boyfriend_." Antonio added, a sly smile on his face. The last part of what he said caused Romano's cheeks to turn an even darker shade.

"Okay then, let's go."

On the way there, Romano couldn't help but notice that Antonio's demeanor had changed. He appeared…nervous? Romano decided to ask him.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Antonio put on a smile, trying to make the other feel better. It was obviously forced, though.

"It's okay, it's just dinner with Francis's family." Romano told him, and put a comforting hand on Antonio's shoulder.

Antonio just nodded, something obviously still on his mind. When they were almost there, he leaned in and whispered in Romano's ear.

"No matter what happens, I love you, Romano. I love you so much even though we haven't known each other long. I love every experience I've been on with you while you've been here, and can't wait to have more. No matter what happens, please know that my love for you is genuine, always has been, and always will be." Antonio told Romano.

Romano couldn't help but wonder what was up with all the whispering and "Whatever happens," and "No matter what happens," he had heard that day, from both Francis and Antonio. It was just Francis's family, right? Romano couldn't figure out where all the melodrama came from.

They finally arrived at the apartment. Romano twisted his key in the lock, and opened the door.

What he came to see and find out shocked him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 _It was a sunny afternoon in June when Roma Vargas heard the most blood curdling scream in his life. It was his daughter, and when he heard it once, he swore to himself that he never wanted to hear it again. The man was back, and though he knew not to worry about starving that month, his daughter's cries proved far worse._

 _Roma Vargas was from the generation of elders who were, by no means, uneducated or lazy, but, with the world's moving forward and the elders remaining timeless, this mentioned world saw them as unskilled, unnecessary, and inadequate. Roma Vargas was a good man. He cared deeply for everyone around him. Roma Vargas was a passionate man. He had a passion people, he had a passion for his restaurant, Papa's, which lived up to its name._

 _Feliciana Vargas grew up in Papa's. To her, it was the loveliest place in the world, and she knew that to her Papa, Papa's was his world. Papa's was perfect in a way that things stopped being perfect a long time before. It was the people. It was the culture. It was the generation._

 _This generation loved smiling at anyone and everyone they met. This generation sat and talked for hours and hours, with the sunset being the only indicator of time passing. This generation welcomed anyone and everyone. They were everyone's papas and mommas, everywhere was their home, and everyone, with them, would feel like home. Roma Vargas, by that June, was the last of that generation._

 _Papa's died with the rest of the generation, apart from Roma Vargas, who just couldn't seem to die with everyone else._

 _It was a sunny afternoon in March when Roma Vargas got the call. He had been in town, with new wealth allowing him to pay for anything the Vargas family would need._

 _He ran, and kept running. Roma Vargas let his breath catch in his throat, felt his palms soak themselves in sweat, and let the multiple bags of groceries in his hands drop. They didn't matter anymore. She had done all of this for him, for his sake, for the family that they were both trying so desperately to hold onto, to keep together, all because of the inabilities and handicaps that the world claimed Roma Vargas possessed. Handicaps that kept him from being a part of the new, modern world, with its' ever changing technology, rules, and never-changing dullness, and a since of heartlessness that grew with it. 'But is it really worth it?' he couldn't help but think. Because, to him, nothing was really worth it anymore, except for his daughter's safety, which had been jeopardized so many times. All because of him._

 _It was when he arrived that he heard more blood curdling screams, for the second time in his life. But this time, they began with his daughter, and ended with his newborn grandson._

 _Eight pounds, nineteen inches, dark blue eyes that were bound to change, chubby cheeks, chubby hands, one stray, dark auburn curl, and crying enough to open flood gates, and Roma was in love. Roma had been scared of seeing that dirty, disgusting man in this little boy, but, instead, Roma Vargas saw himself in this sweet, innocent child. He looked so much like Roma in the way that was instantly recognizable, yet, still wasn't easily described. They shared the same wondering eyes. Roma Vargas suddenly lost all feelings of being the only one left, because, in that moment, he knew he had met another member from the lost generation, but this little baby wasn't lost yet. He was so much like Roma but had one thing his grandfather didn't; he had hope._

 _The father and daughter discussed their previously made plans for the child before even daring to name him. They had decided that he would go to America. He would go to America where he would learn and thrive in this newer world. This boy would not drown in society as the waves of life caught up with him, with the tide pulling him in again right when he seemed to get on his feet, just as the rest of his family before him had. This boy would sail society's seas in a way nobody else ever had or could or would, because this boy was unlike anybody alive, and he would prove that as his life went on. This boy was the found one of the lost generation._

 _Roma and Feliciana, first, clarified these plans. Then, they each held the baby boy, just allowing themselves a few short minutes more. Lastly, they wrapped him in a yellow blanket, before naming him in a note on the back of a grocery receipt Roma found in his pocket._

 _"Romano Lovino Vargas. To go to America, to learn, to succeed, to be found, to be loved._

 _-Momma and Grandpa, Feliciana and Roma Vargas."_

 _The baby was then handed over and Roma Vargas, once again, had to say goodbye to someone he loved. The only difference was the promise he made himself, that that day wasn't goodbye forever, and that he would see this baby again, once he grew into the man he knew he would become._

 _'It's too bad I can't see him become that man.' Roma thought. This was his only regret at letting the baby go, but he owed it to this boy, for Romano Vargas, at just a few minutes old, had given Roma Vargas, the old and very lost man, something to live for. In that moment, he knew why he hadn't been allowed to die along with the rest of his past._

Romano just gaped at hearing this. He was with his so-called Grandpa in his room at Francis's house. He had met Roma and Feliciano Vargas just the hour before. Just an hour before, Francis was his 'older brother', Roma Vargas was simply Francis's 'Grand-pere', and Feliciano Vargas was simply Francis's younger cousin. They were nice people and Romano had enjoyed their company as they sat at the table and shared a meal. Roma had been inquisitive about Romano, but he figured that it was because he was a just a talkative old man. Then, after all the food was eaten and the plates put away, a chore Francis had insisted to do in Romano's place, Roma calmly asked if he could speak to the American alone.

They sat on Romano's bed, and Roma told him the story. Romano was speechless for a few moments, but when those moments were up, he knew it was time to talk, and he let his voice and emotions do the rest for him.

"Why did you come here to tell me this? If you're my grandfather, and you're also Francis's grandfather, then that means that Francis is my cousin; is that the only reason he let me stay with him? What about my actual parents? How do you know that I'm even the Romano Vargas you're looking for? I'm sure there are many more and that you are mistaken…"

Romano could've gone on, but he was stopped by the remarkably calm old man in front of him.

"You're full name is Romano Lovino Vargas. You were named after me because of our uncanny resemblance, and I know that you can't deny that. You were born on March 17th, nineteen-ninety-three at 12:45 in the afternoon. You weighed eight pounds and were nineteen inches long, and you had that one stray curl that I see you have until this very day. You are my grandson. You are also Francis's cousin and Feliciano's older brother. I came here because I figured that, by now, I wouldn't have the power to hold you back, and I obviously won't do that with how wonderful and successful I've found out you are. You have truly made a significant man out of yourself," Roma paused a moment before starting back. "Francis suspected it was you, and I came here today to confirm those suspicions, but I can assure you that that's not the only reason he let you live here with him. You were adopted shortly after and everyone in your biological family lost track of you. We weren't allowed to know anything about you after I handed you over to the service worker." Sadness suddenly flooded the elder's features, he looked up at the, again, speechless Romano.

"Have you had a nice life, Romano?" Roma asked, looking genuinely concerned and staring right into Romano's eyes. Roma loved Romano from the minute he laid eyes on him, and that's why he had to give him up, because Romano deserved a better life than one with the hopeless and purposeless Roma.

There was understanding. It was kinetic, supernatural, and all powerful. Romano couldn't help but imagine himself earlier that day, pouring his heart out to Antonio, and now this man was pouring his heart out to him. He understood this man, just as that man had understood him when Romano was a mere enfant. Looking into his eyes told him a story. Looking into his eyes told him what to say.

"I have." Romano answered. Because he had. It was boring, and gloomy, and he never wanted to return, but that life led him to Spain, and it's forever warm and loving sunlight. It led him to Francis, a personification of this sunlight, whom he chose to believe, at least for that moment, was tied to him by blood. It led him to Antonio, who, like the sun, lit up his life. It led him to the light of his life.

"I have, Grandpa." Romano was crying by then. He flung his arms around the elder man, needing to feel something solid and real in that so very surreal moment. Roma just held his crying grandson just like he had nineteen years before.

They stayed like that for a few minutes before letting go and retaining composure. Romano still had some questions to ask.

"Where's my mother?" was the first question.

"Feliciana…"

Before Roma could finish a young, light auburn haired boy, who Romano had been told was his younger brother, came in. With a serious expression on his face, much different than the happy-go-lucky demeanor he displayed at dinner, he sat on the bed.

"Momma got sick and passed away many years ago." Feliciano solemnly said.

Romano slowly nodded. He knew he felt sadness for this family; his family he never knew and had trouble, in moments, believing were his. But he knew they had to be. Romano always knew he was adopted, so that part of the story added up, and Roma knew so much about him. If not for these things, it showed in the uncanny resemblance between him and the two other Vargas's in the room as well. They were his family and his mother was dead. He couldn't help but mourn despite never knowing her, because he couldn't help but mourn the loss of the hope of ever knowing her. He struggled to decide on whether he wanted to know if she ever wanted to him, just as Roma had, or if she didn't. He decided against it, because both would end in either sadness over, somehow, not meeting them all earlier when he and his mother could've known each other, or sadness over, somehow, not being wanted by the very woman who gave birth to him. This is why Romano couldn't do the polite thing and apologize for their loss, because he felt, in a way, like it was his too. He just kept asking questions instead, but making sure they were about lighter topics.

"How old are you, Feliciano?" he asked.

"I'm eighteen." He answered, a smile forming on his face.

So, Feliciano was only a year younger.

"So, do you two also live in Spain?"

"No! It's absolutely lovely here, but our home is in Rome, I'm afraid."

Romano nodded his head. He then figured that he would just have to ask them a million questions while he could, before they left. Because he definitely had a million questions…

When the talking, questions, and explaining was finished, the three men made their way out of the room. All were exhausted and emotionally drained. Romano hugged Feliciano and Roma goodbye and promised that he would keep in touch, and that was a promise he knew he would keep. He hadn't even known this family for a whole day, yet he knew he felt connected to them; he knew loved them.

He walked over to the couch and practically collapsed from exhaustion. Antonio had him in his arms within seconds, and Francis came to sit beside the pair.

After a few minutes of sitting like that, Francis had to ask one thing before leaving Antonio and Romano alone.

"Are you okay, petit frère?"

Romano simply nodded his head. Francis then decided to exit the room. After all, he knew he would see Romano the next morning and that he could ask him more, then. He just wanted to continue being Romano's older brother. He wanted Romano to know that he would've wanted him to be his little brother, his favorite person to protect, regardless of a family title, but that would have to wait until the next morning. It had been a long night.

"I love you, no matter what, my little brother." Francis told Romano as he walked off to his bedroom.

Antonio was the only one left awake with Romano, who was beginning to fall asleep in Antonio's arms. Before he could, Antonio just had to ask Romano one thing.

"Do you still love me?"

"Yes." Romano answered, mustering up the little bit of energy he had left to make it sound convincing.

Antonio smiled at the half asleep Romano.

"Good, because I love you, too." Antonio whispered in Romano's ear.

They stayed like that, Romano tucked away in Antonio's embrace, Antonio resting his head on Romano's shoulder, just taking the other in. In one day, Antonio realized how much he loved him. In one moment, Antonio realized that his heart was no longer his own, but it belonged completely to Romano. And Antonio knew he would never get it back the way it once was, if at all.

Once Romano had fallen completely asleep, Antonio carried him to his room. He tucked him in bed and admired the young man sleeping in front of him. Finally, he laid a kiss on his forehead and left him a note on the closest thing he could find, an old napkin on Romano's nightstand.

 _"I still love you more than you'll ever know. I still want to be there for you. My heart is yours; please don't give it back just yet._

 _-Antonio."_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Romano woke the next morning and felt like everything around him was surreal. A part of him imagined the day before was a dream, but then, as he slowly became more awake, he knew that couldn't be the case. He was especially reminded of this at the sight of Francis, his cousin, apparently, in the kitchen making breakfast.

"Hi, Francis." Romano tried to say this as if nothing had changed, because he didn't want anything to change. He loved Francis for who he had been to him throughout his stay in the Frenchman's apartment; he loved Francis as the brother the Frenchman had made himself.

"Bonjour, Romano. Did you sleep well?" Francis asked, not ready to talk about the more complicated things yet.

"Yes, actually. You?"

"Oui." Francis smiled and tried to continue the act, but both of them knew that there were many things to, still, be discussed. They were both just nervous to start, neither even knew where that beginning point should be.

Francis sat down at the table across from Romano, not even hiding his serious expression anymore. He couldn't put this off any longer.

"So, Romano, I suppose you 'ave some questions to ask, oui? Before you do, I need you to know zhat you really are a brother to me, and I 'ope zhat you will let me be a brother to you."

Romano nodded.

"I know. And you are. Look, I'm not mad at you, okay. I tried to be, but I don't really have the energy for it right now, and I don't think I really want to be. You say you see me as a brother, and you've done nothing to disprove that, so I guess I have to believe you. You told me you loved me no matter what, yesterday, so I guess I'll believe it." Romano said.

"Oui, I do. I know zhat zhis is 'ard for you, but I'm 'ere for you, no matter what. You know zhat, right?"

"Yes. It's just…If you didn't know I was family, or if I wasn't at all, you would really still love me? You would've still done everything you did for me?"

"Oui, I would 'ave. Now, you being family certainly did make your chances a little better, I can't lie, but I believe I would've loved you the same if I had met and gotten to know you under different circumstances."

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I wanted Grand-pere Roma to be able to tell you. I felt like it was 'is right more than mine. But I did tell 'im when I zhought I found you."

"How did you know it was me?"

Francis smiled. "I 'ad a feeling. Grand-pere didn't tell any of us much about you. Feliciano didn't even know until about a year ago. I waz eleven when I 'eard the news of Roma's new grandson, but zhat I couldn't meet you. I remembered 'earing zhat you looked so much like 'im, and when I saw online zhat your last name was Vargas, I took a chance. I didn't realize it until zhat night when we 'ad wine together for the first time, when I told you zhere was something about you, zhat zhat somezhing I had seen in you waz Grand-pere Roma. I saw that somezhing from ze moment I saw you, but it wasn't until I went to bed zhat night and I thought about it for a while, and I realized it. You 'ave zhat same quality zhat I can't quite put my finger on, but it's unmistakable."

Romano smiled a little at this. He wasn't sure about all the flattery, but he knew it was genuine, and it settled his nerves about Francis. He also knew what Francis was talking about, that he and Roma did share a quality, but he, himself, didn't quite know what it was.

They finished breakfast and migrated to the couch to talk more. Francis had already anticipated this and arranged his work schedule accordingly. He pulled out a photo album to show Romano his lost family.

Francis pointed to a woman on the first page. She didn't look like Romano or Feliciano, for she had violet eyes, long, dark black hair, and pale, almost pink-tinted skin. She was smiling, but Romano could easily recognize this smile as fake, because it was the exact one he had used many times in the past when he pretended to be happy.

"Zhis is your mother." Francis told him.

Romano nodded.

"What was she like?" he asked.

Francis smiled.

"She waz warm, but not in a fake way. She 'ad faced many zhings in 'er life, so zhat made 'er very strong and less…optimistic. But she was still nice to be around. Talking to you reminded me of talking to 'er, zhat's one of zhe many reasons I love our conversations, actually." Francis said this with a look of remembrance, and a slight glint of sadness in his eyes.

Romano could tell they were getting into more difficult territory, but he still wanted to know; a part of him felt like he needed to know. She was his mother, after all.

"How did she die?"

"She died about two years after you were born." Francis paused. Remembering was hard for him, and it was genuinely hard to find the words to use. He finally swallowed and looked into Romano's eyes.

"Your mother did a lot for the family. After Grand-pere lost ze restaurant, she did whatever she could to survive. Becauze of all zhat, becauze of zhat sacrifice, she got sick. Grand-pere did everyzhing he could, but zhere was no cure." Francis was then crying. "Roma blamed 'imself. But he iz ze strongest man I know becauze 'e kept doing ze best 'e could. 'e raised Feliciano on 'is own and, I don't even zhink, to zhis day, Feliciano knows ze full story. I only do becauze I waz old enough to understand what waz 'appening when it waz 'appening. I waz old enough to be awake and walk by Roma's bedroom ze night after ze funeral and 'ear 'im crying out things he couldn't in ze daytime. I could put together 'ow guilty he felt by looking at ze way he dressed for five years after. 'e would always buy Feliciano ze nicest zhings, but nothing for 'imself becauze he felt like a part of zhat was still money 'is daughter earned doing what ending up killing 'er, even zhough zhat was spent many years before. He still saw zhis money from 'er as blood money; 'e saw it az ze world's replacing love for zhis new material wealth zhat 'ad already been tearing 'im apart, and 'e wanted no part of it."

Francis had tried to calm his crying but the tears kept coming.

"My side of ze famille tried to 'elp 'him, but 'e wouldn't be 'elped. I tried to 'elp 'im, but 'e wouldn't take money from me. 'e would always tell me to keep my money so I didn't end up like 'im. For years, I felt so bad for zhis man. Ze world trampled 'im, and took everyzhing from 'im. 'e 'ad no hope left, it seemed, until I remembered you when I saw your application for a host family, and I just 'ad to try. And it iz you."

Francis threw his arms around Romano as his crying turned to sobbing.

"I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry! I 'ate zhat I dragged you into zhis, but I figured it would give 'im some hope. And I actually zhink it did."

Romano just held the other in his arms.

After a moment, Francis spoke again.

"You gave us all hope, petit frere." He continued after a pause.

"I don't zhink Roma 'as much longer with us. I just feel it. And I really wanted to meet you, and I wanted Roma to meet you, before zhis family completely lost you. I really wanted you to be found, Romano."

"I'm glad you found me." Romano finally told him.

After a moment, Romano thought it would be safe to ask more.

"What about Feliciano? Why did Roma and Momma keep him, but not me?"

Francis felt sad for the boy. The last thing he wanted was for Romano to feel unwanted, because he truly wasn't. It was circumstances. It was bad timing. And, in Romano's case, it was bad people.

"Your mother had you with a man who used her and gave her ze payment just for zhat. He left after, and was never seen again. Grand-pere Roma and your mother didn't 'ave the means to raise you. A few months later, your mother found anozer man. Not a necessarily bad man. They had Feliciano a few months after marrying, and your mother, for a little while, felt like she 'ad made a stable life for 'erself and 'er family. She was a nurturer, and 'er husband was the provider. That was until the years of what she had done caught up to 'er body, and she passed when Feliciano was just one years old. Ze husband didn't know what to do when she died, and 'e just didn't think that he could raise a child, for zhat was what she had always done. So he left, and Roma raised Feliciano from zhen on with zhe money zhe man gave Roma before he left." Francis paused. "I don't want you to zhink zhat because Roma raised Feliciano that he loved him more, it was just what 'append. Feliciano was one years old and, in one year, had formed a connection to Roma, as Roma did to 'im. And…" Francis stopped again. He looked Romano in the eyes, hoping for understanding. He then finally continued.

"Roma didn't need to be alone."

Romano completely understood this. He had expected himself to get angry or jealous, but he simply couldn't be. Francis was right. Roma needed Feliciano just as much as Feliciano needed Roma. Romano could only imagine how difficult the many goodbyes that Roma had had to say in his lifetime were.

After a moment, Romano decided to go on.

"Okay, Francis, one last question." Romano said. His demeanor had lightened a bit, as understanding took a bit of weight off his shoulders.

"Hmm?" Francis replied. He, obviously, had lightened up as well.

"How are you French? Like, how is Roma Italian and he has all of this Italian family, and then, for some reason, you just happen to be French?" Romano playfully asked.

Francis chuckled at this. With a smile he replied.

"Your mother 'ad a twin brother. 'e moved to Paris when 'e was eighteen and, shortly after, met my mother. Then they 'ad me!"

They both smiled at this. Obviously, Francis took after his mother's side of the family, because he looked nothing like Roma, Romano, or Feliciano.

Romano decided not to ask any more questions. He didn't really need to. He was a part of that family, and that was clarified. Roma was the glue that kept them together, and Romano was the last piece to be glued onto a previously broken family. He suddenly felt like he had more of a placement, and a purpose. He would be Francis's little brother. He would be Feliciano's older brother. He would be Roma's grandson. Because he already was.

A few hours later, Romano decided to visit Antonio. Like usual, he only had to knock on the door one time before Antonio threw the entrance open and had the younger in his arms. This time, Antonio didn't even let go of him as they made their way to the couch.

"You can let go of me, you know!" Romano told him, a playful anger in his voice.

"No, I can't." Antonio gently told him. He was resting his head on Romano's shoulder and caressing his hair. Romano smiled into his chest.

Romano was the first to decide to break the silence.

"We should go somewhere." He said.

Antonio raised an eyebrow at this. They had usually always just stayed at his house and cuddled on the sofa, took siestas together, ate together, watched movies as an excuse to kiss each other more… All in all, they had become homebodies, and this simply wouldn't do for Romano. He would remain in the country for less than a month at that point, and he planned on seeing as much as he could, and, with the camera Francis gave him, he planned on visually capturing the beautiful things he saw.

"Let's go!" Romano said as he escaped Antonio's arms and pulled him to his feet.

They went to a park. But this wasn't a park like the ones in America that Romano had visited, this was like an outdoor museum in its own way. It had mosaic tiles, the most beautiful plants and greenery, walkways that seemed to go for miles. Romano could've gotten lost in that park, and a part of him wanted to. He was happy to know that he had Antonio to find him if he did decide to get lost.

"Okay, stand right there!" Romano told Antonio, his camera out and pointed at the older man.

Antonio scooted over, obviously a little camera shy as he inched his way into the shot as slowly as possible. For such an outgoing man, he really didn't like getting his picture taken. But that didn't matter to Romano. Romano still planned on getting plenty of pictures of Antonio, whether he liked it or not.

"Why do I have to do this?" Antonio asked, exasperated that it was taking so long for "the lighting to be just right for the shot".

"Because your stunning and I want pictures of the man I love." Romano told him with a smile.

This made Antonio's heart flutter as a blush crept its way onto his cheeks. He would let Romano take as many pictures of him as he wanted if it made Romano confess like that. Antonio had always wanted to make people happy, but something about making Romano happy made him willing to commit murder, to probably even die, himself, just to see the smile on Romano's face and hear Romano tell him he loved him. Antonio knew he was in deep, but he, just then, got an idea of just how deep his love for Romano was going.

They took more pictures. Antonio in front of the Cupid statue, Romano in front of the angel statue "because you're my angel", as Antonio told him. Romano snapped photos of the tiled artwork, of the terrain in the background of the park, of even the people who were a mixture of wondering tourists and wondering locals. Romano loved it there and wished he could spend days with Antonio just walking around the park and taking pictures of everything and everyone he saw, but alas, the sun did begin to set, and Romano and Antonio knew that it was time for them both to go home.

They stood like two teenagers on Romano's doorstep. Except, somehow, they both knew their love for each other was more genuine than any high school summer romance. Romano couldn't help but think about, 'What if this day became every day?' as he walked around with Antonio. Antonio couldn't help but think of the conclusion that he had come to as he began to see Romano as more beautiful than the art around them. He finally realized that he would never love anyone like he loved Romano. It was beyond the feeling of never wanting the day to end; it was the feeling of never wanting his life with Romano to end. It was deep. It was pure. The two simply went together like peanut butter and jelly, grapes and cheese, or tomato sauce and pasta, because they both just connected. They weren't soulmates; they were life mates.

So much of the past had been brought up. So many suffered so much heartbreak, but out of that heartbreak came a love that never would've been possible if Romano Vargas wasn't the found one of the lost generation and if Antonio Hernandez Carrideo wasn't the onlooker and friend of the lost family, who finally found their missing piece. And through that, Antonio had found his missing piece as well.

Antonio cupped Romano's cheeks in his hands as he leaned down and rested his forehead against Romano's. Saying goodbye for the night felt like torture. It was the worst part of Antonio's day. He didn't want to imagine how hard it would be to say goodbye to Romano when he left to return to America, far from him, and far the life he began to create in Spain, the life Antonio liked to think they had begun to create together.

"Will you be okay, my little tomato?" Antonio asked, still resting on Romano, as if beginning to part from the smaller man was exhausting.

"Si. Will you be okay?"

"No, I won't be. I'll miss you so much that I'll eat way too much ice cream and cry while watching _Titanic_ because it'll be a whole eight hours before I can see you again. I might even break into the wine I have stored away and buy us a boat to sail away in together in a drunken purchase. That would be nice thing wouldn't it?" Antonio calmly asked, a small smile on his face.

"Can you even sail a boat?"

"I could learn…" Antonio casually remarked. He then looked serious as he began to stare into Romano's eyes.

"No, what I meant was, wouldn't it be nice to just be together all the time?"

Romano nodded.

"It would. Maybe in our next life…" Romano tried to joke. He knew how much he wanted to be with Antonio like that, but it was too early in their relationship to be making decisions like that, but too late in their relationship, as well. Living together after one month seemed unheard of. Living together for only one month seemed just as bad.

"What about in this life?" Antonio asked. He hadn't planned on asking him. He didn't even think about it until he was standing on a doorstep saying goodbye.

Romano wanted to say yes. Romano wanted to drop everything he had spent years planning with his adoptive parents just to move in with Antonio in Spain. Just to never have to say goodbye to the man again. Just to see those green eyes open for the first time in the mornings, because he imagined it being a site better than the sunrise. Antonio would be his sunrise. Romano loved it and clung to it, hoping if he did so the universe would give him a sign that things had changed and he suddenly could just live that life. But after a moment and nothing happening, Romano knew that simply wasn't going to happen.

"No," Romano said as he slowly shook his head. Sadness overwhelmed him as he had to voice the emotions he had been feeling since he realized his time there was getting more and more limited. Tears filled his eyes as he continued.

"Antonio, I want to be with you so bad. I don't want this to end, but I know it has to. I have family here, so I'll always be connected, but, you see, I think even if it wasn't for my family then I would still always be connected. Because I love you. I love you and Francis with all my heart, but I love you in a different way. It's so soon! I know…but I love you in a way that I'm not sure if I'll ever love anyone else the same, or even as much. So, saying no to you breaks my heart. So…"

Before he could finish, Antonio's lips were on his in a passionate kiss. It didn't last long, but it was enough to get Romano to stop talking, to stop in helping to break his own heart.

"Starting tomorrow, I get you for a whole week. Starting tomorrow, it's just going to be you and me. We're going to live together. You're going to sleep in my bed and we're going to wake up together every morning. We're going to walk around that park we went to today in the afternoons. I'm going to cook whatever tomato-filled food you want, when you want it. Starting tomorrow, and for a whole week, it's not my house anymore, it's ours. Ours. For a week we're going to come home to each other. Our home."

Romano's tears had dried by the time Antonio finished. For a week, he would live with him. He wouldn't waste a minute of his one perfect week with the man he loved. He absolutely couldn't wait, yet he feared its' start all the same, because once it started it would have to come to an end eventually. But it would still be a whole week of Antonio. It would be a whole week of loving Antonio.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Romano eagerly walked up to Antonio's doorstep as early that morning as he could. He woke up before Francis, and left just as Francis emerged from his bedroom. Francis had simply given him a nod as he left, too tired for anything else. Romano had already told him about his and Antonio's plans, anyway.

So, there he was. He quickly knocked on the wooden door and, instead of an instant greeting, received no response.

'Hmm… That's weird,' he thought.

Romano then tried again, a little louder. When he did so, a note he hadn't noticed fell from the attachment on the door that held a flower pot that had concealed the letter.

" _Romano,_

 _I might not be awake when you arrive. I got called into work last night after I dropped you off (had to stay with the exterminators and cleaners…ugh the restaurant business). Anyway, I didn't get back until really late, so sorry if I'm sleeping. Just come in, the doors unlocked. Mi casa es su casa (literally)! I love you!_

 _Antonio"_

Romano just smiled at how cute his boyfriend was. He also felt bad for him; he could only imagine how tired he was from, first, their day together yesterday, and then being called into work. He made his way inside and carefully, unsurely, and softly made his way into Antonio's room. He had never been in there before, and a part of him felt like he was invading Antonio's privacy, but another part knew that that was silly, especially because he would be sleeping in that room with Antonio all week.

Romano set his bag down next to Antonio's dresser, and decided to not put his things away just yet, out of fear of waking the sleeping man. Romano finally turned to look at Antonio sleeping peacefully in his bed, _their_ bed, for the time being. Romano couldn't help but think of how beautiful he was. Antonio was sleeping on his side, hugging a pillow that Romano wished could be him. Even in his sleep, Antonio had a smile on his face. Romano wondered what Antonio was dreaming about, and a part of him hoped it was him. Romano knew he had dreamed about Antonio the night before. In his dream, Romano was standing in front of a window overlooking a garden in Spain. Antonio suddenly put his arms around him from behind and rested his head between Romano's shoulder blades. Romano turned around and looked lovingly into Antonio's green eyes that made everything around them look dull. He was pulled into a kiss. Antonio then had a serious expression on his face, and opened his mouth to say something when Romano suddenly woke. Ever since, he wondered what Antonio was going to say in the dream.

While Romano was lost in his thoughts, he didn't realize that Antonio had woken enough to notice that Romano was staring.

"Hola, my love." Antonio finally said with a sleepy, groggy voice, but he still looked happy that Romano was there.

This shook Romano out of his thoughts. A blush appeared on his cheeks when he realized the Spaniard caught him. He smiled anyway, his excitement too strong to let this moment be ruined.

"Hi, Antonio." He weakly said. Antonio really did something to Romano's mind, as Romano was usually sharp-witted, yet all he could muster was that lame greeting.

"Come here." Antonio finally beckoned him over.

Romano carefully made his way over to the bed. This was Romano's first real relationship, so he was still a little nervous about all of this. Antonio was technically Romano's first kiss, but he didn't plan on telling Antonio that, yet Antonio already sensed it, anyway. Antonio thought it was endearing, though, that his very mature boyfriend turned even younger than his actual age when it came to more intimate things. That's why Antonio always aimed at making Romano feel comfortable as possible, and that's one of the reasons Romano actually did feel fairly comfortable.

Romano sat on the end of the bed. This clearly didn't satisfy Antonio, though, as he pulled Romano to him. They, then, were both lying side by side, and Antonio held Romano to him.

"I'm so glad you're here," Antonio told Romano.

"I'm glad I'm here too." Romano said, he then looked up at Antonio. He was gorgeous, as always, but, up close, Romano could see how tired the older man was. He had bags under his eyes accompanied with dark circles, and he could tell Antonio was fighting to keep those green orbs open.

Romano kissed him gently on the nose, then over both of Antonio's eyelids.

"Go back to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." He whispered.

Antonio tried to protest, but this came out as a soft whine. He had just lost the battle of keeping his eyes open, yet he still tried to stay awake for his Romano. Romano sensed this and calmly shushed him. He ran one hand through Antonio's wavy, messy, brown hair, as his other hand drew patterns on Antonio's chin, cheeks, forehead, and nose, before it trailed back down and repeated.

This caused Antonio to have to surrender to his fatigue, as the other's fingers felt so good running through his hair and trailing down his face. Before he completely lost consciousness, he placed a kiss on Romano's finger as it traced his lips. A few seconds later, Antonio was fully asleep.

After just watching Antonio sleep for so long he lost track of the time, he made his way out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He decided to make both of them breakfast and bring it to Antonio in bed. He made pancakes, eggs, and bacon, and put them all on a tray to bring to his boyfriend about an hour later.

Romano placed the tray on Antonio's bedside table and gently kissed Antonio's cheeks, then nose, then forehead, and finally his lips to wake him up. It was twelve o'clock in the afternoon at that point. Antonio's eyes opened and Romano knew he had been right about it being like his own personal sunset. Romano smiled down at the other man.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty. I made breakfast."

Antonio blinked some more sleep out of his eyes, before registering what Romano had just told him. He smiled and gladly took the tray and began eating.

The first day was relaxed. Romano finally realized how much a person can learn about someone else just by seeing how they act around their own home. He realized that he didn't know much about Antonio, and seeing him in his element was just as an exciting experience to him as when they went out to the seemingly magical places Spain had to offer.

Romano noticed that Antonio bit his lips a lot whenever he thought too hard about something, or when he was simply daydreaming. Antonio had the happiest daydreams that pulled Romano in along with the older man. Antonio could talk well, Romano already knew this, but there was a depth to Antonio's conversations that made Romano feel like the only man on earth, that made him feel like there a hidden meaning to even the simplest of things, and this made Romano want to find that meaning. Antonio was warm like a refreshing sunset after a long day, Romano was colder like fresh, crisp, autumn air, but, together, Romano realized they were like a flaming fire that was determined to burn whatever was in their path, their hearts, their lives, anything and everything would go down in flames. This is where Antonio's daydreams tended to take Romano.

And, 'What a beautiful fire.' Was all Romano could say about it.

Antonio also liked to…well…do whatever Antonio felt like in that moment. Antonio had a sexy impulsiveness that pulled Romano in even further. If Antonio wanted to relax, he sprawled out on the ground, no matter where he was. If Antonio wanted to have a conversation, he would speak whatever came to his mind first. If Antonio wanted to kiss Romano, anytime, anywhere, he would tug on Romano's hand as a warning, then dip him and plant one right on his innocent lips. Romano loved this so much. Antonio had the innocence of a child, but the gaze of a hungry wolf who wanted nothing more than to devour, and his person of interest was always Romano, and he felt like it always would be.

It was this impulsiveness that caused Romano not to realize that a whole day had passed, and that the two of them were leaving their house in the afternoon of their second day of living together, paying no mind to the storm clouds that loomed above them.

They made their way to the garden that Romano had recently fallen in love with. They strolled around and, eventually, found themselves in a secluded, maze-like rose garden, with green walls that were taller than even Antonio. It encased them in their own world where there was peace, and love, and just the other's embrace as their heartbeats composed a song of their own and their hands held onto the other gently, yet longingly, as if they could simply just hold onto one another to keep time from going on. It reminded Romano of the garden that they first kissed in; it reminded Romano about Antonio's words to him that night.

 _"_ _The people you're meant to meet, whether it's to make your day or to change your life, you will meet when the universe, or God, or some power over us, decides it's right, but you'll only know the difference between those two categories of people after the meeting."_

Romano's hope for Antonio to be one to change his life blazed through his mind so loudly he didn't even hear the roaring boom and crackling of thunder over them.

Romano kissed Antonio, and Antonio gladly fell into it. There was a whole storm around them, a miracle in the too-dry Spain in summer, and all they could think about was the miracle of them both being together and having that moment. Antonio pulled Romano even closer, his arms wrapping around the latter's waist, while Romano's own arms found themselves resting around Antonio's shoulder's and neck.

It wasn't until Romano felt the prickly wetness of the rose bush behind him, against his back, as Antonio gently rested him against the wall it created, it wasn't until Antonio saw the reflection of the lightning's fierce white flash in Romano's eyes, that they both realized they were in the middle of a storm. They had a brief moment of just gazing at each other before Romano decided to let himself also turn into an impulsive, restless child when he playfully smiled up at Antonio, grabbed his hand, and began pulling him away from the gardens.

They ran hand in hand, laughing uncontrollably, and only occasionally stopping under rooftops of random cafes to catch their breaths, stare at each other, and give each other a quick kiss before continuing on their journey home. When they made it to the door, Antonio quickly fumbled for his keys and swung the door open.

The door was slammed and so was Romano's back against it. Antonio's hands cupped Romano's face as he ravaged Romano's features, only stopping to breathe and to let out the occasional happy giggle. They were both so happy. Romano felt Antonio's damp hair in-between his fingers and couldn't help but notice how Antonio's damp t-shirt clung to him, and how Romano really wanted to be that t-shirt.

Romano was cold from the raindrops that still lingered on his body. Romano was hot from Antonio's very being just being so close, and he shivered. He shivered because of both, and Antonio felt the shiver course through his body as well. Antonio wanted him. Antonio wanted him like the sun wants the ocean as it sets over the sea after a long day of beaming down. Antonio wanted to get closer, to make him warm. He wanted to show how much he loved Romano. Antonio wanted to see him smile, to take him to a place he had never been before, because Romano had done that for him when he made Antonio see how amazing a life with him was. Every glance, every longing stare, every innocent touch, every word…

"Antonio." Romano let out in a faint, soft voice that Antonio had never heard before, and, God, he wanted to hear it again.

"What is it, my love?" Antonio let out, with hooded eyes, in shaky breaths.

Romano then let any doubts go. It was Antonio. It always had been Antonio. The universe, or God, or some power over them had made it so. Romano breathed in Antonio's sweet, damp, rainy scent. He kissed him with fire that evaporated the raindrops on their damp skin.

Romano looked up to Antonio with pleading, loving, wanting, and serious eyes that both stimulated and melted Antonio in a mere second.

"I love you. Make love to me." Romano said in a breathy, yet suddenly confident tone. Romano wanted this, no, Romano needed this.

Antonio refused to even question anything and completely surrendered. His body wasn't his anymore, and he simply touched for Romano, his heart pounded for Romano, he breathed for Romano.

He lifted Romano and carried him away from the door to their bedroom, his lips not leaving Romano's even to see where he was going.

He gracefully carried Romano into the bedroom and gently set him down on the bed. There, Romano lied sprawled out every which way as he just stared up at Antonio as he lifted and removed his own shirt. Before Romano had time to truly admire what the clothing had hidden from him, Antonio was on top of him. Romano's lips were on his neck, kissing down his chest, his arms, his hands… everywhere. His hands grazed over Antonio's features as Antonio focused on a spot on Romano's neck, marking him. It was when Romano made the most heavenly sound Antonio had ever heard that he stopped before he was past the point of no return.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

"Do you love me?" Romano asked.

"Yes." Antonio smiled gently. "I am very in love with you."

"Then, yes." Romano looked up, lovingly. "I am very much sure."

This was all Antonio needed to make the most passionate, beautiful love to Romano. It was slow. Clothing falling to the floor replaced raindrops falling to the ground as raindrops on their bodies turned to beads of sweat as they became one.

When it was over, they lied together in a messy bed, with messy hair, and they were a true hot mess. Romano rested his head on Antonio's chest as both were still panting for air. Antonio's strong arm around Romano pulled him closer so he could place a kiss on his forehead.

Antonio finally caught his breath.

"I love you." He told Romano.

"I will always love you."

Romano opened his eyes that he hadn't realized were closed. He looked up into Antonio's bright green sunrises.

"I will always love you, too." He told him.

They both, exhausted, fell asleep. Romano was so happy. He didn't want sex on this adventure to Spain, and he didn't get it. What he and Antonio had was so much deeper and purer than physical intimacy. They had become one physically, emotionally, mentally, and everything in between and beyond. Antonio knew this as well.

They woke up tangled in sheets in a mess of limbs and heartbeats. Romano finally saw the true sunrise in Antonio's eyes, and Antonio had woken up next to the love of his life, and he wished desperately that it could be like that every morning.

Antonio and Romano changed each other's lives forever. They both knew it. Romano was like the ocean that Antonio knew he would always go back to every night before he settled down after a long day, and Romano looked forward to this sun, because it brought warmth to the sea's crashing, yet intriguing waves. They were simply connected, and that connection was eternal.

Antonio had hands that loved, caressed, touched, and explored. These hands liked to strum a guitar more than his ears liked to listen to one. These hands liked to feel morning dew as they grazed a path of roses and edelweiss. These hands liked to hold a certain man named Romano's hands. They also liked to hold that certain man's face in between them as they kissed his cheeks, his nose, and then his lips. Antonio had breathtaking green eyes that put everything around him to shame. Antonio also had a smile that morphed itself into infinite phrases, emotions, and new ways to tell Romano that he was so in love with him.

Romano had an old soul that liked to quietly observe. He liked the warmth of Spain's sunlight around him. He liked the warmth of Spain's people. These people kissed each other's cheeks when they greeted each other and said goodbye. He liked how he felt more at home in Spain than he ever had in his entire life. He loved his new family that found him when he didn't even realize how lost he really was. That's why, it hurt more than Romano could've ever imagined, it hurt more than Romano had ever hurt in his whole life, when he felt his cheeks being kissed goodbye for the last time. Time had flown by all too fast, and Romano felt like he was leaving just as soon as he had first seen Francis, his older brother, picking him up from the airport that day.

They all tried not to cry as Francis, Antonio, and Romano all stood just outside the airport.

In two months, Romano Vargas lived his dream of leaving his gloomy town; he had fallen in love. He had fallen in love with Spain, with his new family, who he strived to continue to be a part of, he had fallen in love with Francis, who would forever be his older brother, who taught him so much, and he fell so madly, passionately, purely, and deeply in love with Antonio, a type of love he knew a person could only experience once in their lifetime.

He hugged Francis around his neck and promised that they would stay in touch.

"I love you, petit frere." Francis told him.

Romano couldn't hold the tears back anymore.

"I love you too, big brother!" he sobbed into Francis's chest.

Francis soothingly rubbed his back and tried to keep himself from crying as he held the smaller man, who had truly become a man right in front of his eyes. He couldn't believe how much Romano had grown. Romano had come to Spain a confused, timid, lost, and hopeless wonderer. Romano would leave a young man who had knowledge and love and experiences that would shape him forever. Francis was so proud of his younger brother. Francis had been told stories about a hopeful Roma, from a time when life hadn't robbed him yet, and he always questioned what that would look like. Seeing Romano, he could envision that person perfectly. Francis loved that person, he loved Romano, he loved teaching him things, he loved being someone's brother. Romano had changed his life forever, and they would forever be family; they would forever be brothers.

Romano then turned to Antonio. He paused, his sad eyes taking in the man in front of him. He loved him more than he had ever loved anyone, and he was going to leave him.

Romano slowly walked to Antonio, wanting to drag out their last moments together. Antonio crushed this plan when he pulled Romano into his arms, just like he had so many times before, but this time was filled with more passion and longing than Antonio had ever expressed. This goodbye was the hardest of his entire life. They stared into each other's eyes before Romano spoke.

"Thank you." Tears began to fill Romano's eyes, and Antonio began to wipe them away.

"Thank you for loving me." Romano let out.

Antonio couldn't even stop his own tears at that point. He looked to Romano, "Always," Antonio wiped the giant tears that stream down his cheeks.

"I will always love you, Romano." He told him.

They looked up at each other and Antonio gave the best smile he could. It was small, but it still drew attention to those beautiful eyes that would haunt Romano every day, and Romano knew this.

Antonio kissed Romano's right cheek, then his left cheek, then his lips. He rested their foreheads together as he kept eye contact and softly spoke to Romano.

"You are going to go back to America and do so many great things, because you are the most amazing person I've ever had the privilege to fall in love with. You're going to take that spirit of yours, that old soul, and you're going to get everything you could ever wish for. Roma and Francis are so proud of you, of the man you've become, and I'm simply astonished. You are unlike any other man on this earth. You're so wise and innocent, and there's something else that I just, still, can't make out. I want you to find happiness and to truly live your life. I want you to experience things that Roma could've only dreamed of. I want you to know that when you feel alone because of that amazing, unique, thing about you, that you are never lost. That if you ever feel unloved, that you are so loved by Francis, by Roma, by Feliciano, by your mother up in heaven…by me. And, with all the things that will change in your life, that love will always remain."

Antonio and Romano quickly broke away out of fear of never letting each other go. Romano began walking away to his plane, and Francis and Antonio simply watched him leave. Once he was gone, Francis turned to Antonio.

"We found 'im, mon ami," Francis said with a sentimental smile.

"I think he found us." Antonio returned the sentimental smile.

Romano Vargas, at nineteen years old, had given Francis Bonnefoy and Antonio Hernandez Carriedo the love for their home, and for their lives, back to them. Romano Vargas found a piece of them that they thought had been lost forever. Romano Vargas was the piece that answered his grandfather's last hope and put them all back together. Romano Vargas was the found one of the lost generation.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It had been almost one year. It was Romano Vargas's twentieth birthday. He had celebrated with a few friends in his college and visited his parents, his biological parents, on that day as well. All was well.

But it wasn't. In one year, Romano couldn't, wouldn't, let himself get Spain's sunlight out of his mind. While there were nice people around him, nobody compared to Antonio, Francis, Roma, Feliciano, and all the faces he saw as he would walk a friendly street in Spain. Romano missed these faces, he missed their warmth, he missed the sense of love and home he had felt for those two months.

He told his parents. He told them that he found his biological family. He told them about Francis. He told them about the sunlight. He told them about the gardens. He just didn't tell them about Antonio, and he didn't tell them about the memories they had in the gardens.

Why? Romano knew they wouldn't understand the depth of his love for the other man. The depth of his love for the feeling he got when he was in Antonio's arms. They would've considered it a summer fling, or maybe even a mistake. He thought he mentioned his preferences in the past, but he didn't really talk to them much about things like that, so he wasn't exactly sure on where they stood on that matter.

Romano didn't even tell them about how Francis was an older brother to him, because they wouldn't understand that either.

Romano knew his parents wouldn't understand the amount of love he felt toward Spain and the people it brought to him because they had never understood him in the past.

They never understood how he felt like an outcast in his own home. How he had a completely different mindset than those around him. How, when he told them he wanted to go to Spain for the summer, even saved his own money to pay for all expenses, all his parents thought of it was that he was just "young and curious" and that, "It'll be good for him before he comes back and settles down." He knew he was, indeed, young and curious, but there was another force that pushed him away from his home and to Spain's welcoming air, and, when he left, the very thought of settling down forever in that place, anywhere that wasn't where he felt home, broke him a little. But he knew that he had to stay. He had to stay for his family, for Roma especially, to make something of himself. Roma gave him up so many years ago to be successful, and what was he going to do in Spain? He knew he would only be successful where he was, with the two middle-class parents who raised him, at a traditional university. He felt guilty for being so miserable, because he was living so many people's dream. He had opportunities that so many didn't.

So, Romano would simply wake up every morning, stare at a picture he kept hidden in a tin under his bed of Antonio smiling at him in that beautiful garden, and tell himself to, "Do it for Roma."

After a year his love for Antonio hadn't waned. He wouldn't dare let it. Francis, Roma, and Feliciano were connected to him by blood, but Antonio was only connected to him by the love that remained between them. Romano didn't want to think about Antonio in the present, and only let himself reminisce about the past, because every time he imagined Antonio he had to cope with the reality that he probably had moved on from Romano, while Romano still had to look at his picture before he went to bed and after he woke up. He desperately yearned for Antonio.

Romano would lie awake on many nights and imagine Antonio was lying beside him, as he had during that week that they lived together. He could still imagine. He could feel Antonio's arms wrapped around him. He could smell the scent that was distinctly Antonio, that smelled like a perfect combination of savory spices and sweet cinnamon, mixed in with a little tomato. He could feel Antonio's lips trailing down his neck. He could hear Antonio's deep breathing just as it was on the night that they submitted themselves to each other. Antonio taught Romano how to surrender, and Romano was still surrendering to the love that he had for the man.

"Happy birthday, bro!" Alfred, Romano's obnoxious, yet fun, classmate told him as he plopped himself down on a couch across from Romano, in the school's library.

Romano quickly put away the photo he was looking at. It was of him and Antonio by the water in the gardens. He smiled a small smile up at the all-American boy across from him.

"Thanks, Alfred." Romano simply replied.

"Dude, what are you looking at?" Alfred asked, having noticed the pictures in Romano's hand.

"Oh, these are…" Romano began, but before he could finish, the blonde boy sat himself down beside him and took a look for himself. Luckily, the picture on top of the stack that Romano held was just a simple one he took of the sunset overlooking the water, a truly beautiful sight.

"That's so pretty! Is that from Spain?" Alfred asked. Romano had told a few of the people he got closer to that he had traveled to Spain over the summer, and a part of him felt bad about it, because he couldn't shake the feeling that they just wanted to hang out with him because he seemed 'exotic' or something. He knew Antonio would quickly deny this, though. That was another thing that Romano got in the habit of. What was previously his conscience turned into Francis's voice reminding him of the life lessons that Romano had learned from him, and what was previously a voice of self-doubt, was accompanied by Antonio's warm, soft words of encouragement, tangled in vines of sweet nothings that made Romano's heart flutter.

"Yeah, it's just a picture I took."

"Whoa! Dude, you're talented. Let me see more."

Before Romano could say anything, the pictures were in Alfred's hands. Romano's face turned white as a sheet as the blonde began to flip through them.

"It's so beautiful there! Man, I want to go. That's spect-…" Alfred stopped mid-sentence as he found the most tell-tale picture in the bunch. Antonio was kissing Romano, smiles on both of their faces, as they both sat by the water. Antonio had insisted on taking it, and, because he wasn't exactly paying attention, the picture turned out slightly blurry, but it was still obvious to make out the scene it displayed. This was the photo that Romano stared at for hours upon hours on the plane ride home, and after he finally arrived. This was the photo that Romano had cried himself to sleep to on some of the worst nights. This was the photo that reminded him that what he and Antonio had was real, and Romano had just left that reality in Spain.

Alfred calmly looked over at Romano, who had a tense expression of his face. Alfred knew Romano wasn't always the cheeriest guy around. Romano, in his one year of college, had managed to keep near-perfect grades, all because he never did anything. Alfred, quite the opposite, had not understood it until that day. He turned to Romano and gave him a faint smile.

"Tell me about him." He told Romano.

They were at a diner a few blocks from campus, and had been there for a few hours, just talking. They weren't talking about nothing, either, which is what Romano felt like he had been doing that whole year. He could finally talk about Antonio. He could finally talk about how deeply he fell in love with him, how painful a year without him had been, how painful a year away from Spain had been, how he had only ever seen the artsy district, that was only slightly out of the city, in Spain, as his home.

"Well, shit man…What are you doing here?" Alfred asked him after hearing a long, rambling, speech Romano made as he finally, finally had let some of his feeling loose, still reserving the most intimate of things, though.

The question caused him to think of his family in Spain, his family in America, and Antonio. He thought about Antonio's parting words to him.

"You are going to go back to America and do so many great things… I want you to experience things that Roma could've only dreamed of."

"My family wouldn't like it. And, besides, I don't know what I would do there."

Alfred wanted to respond with his classic grin and tell him, 'Be happy. You would be happy there.', but he couldn't bring himself to it. It wasn't his life and, despite the long and emotional conversation they had, he, still, didn't know much about Romano. He knew there was probably more factors to it then hopping on a plane, but Alfred, at the same time, hated to see his friend so down. Alfred simply nodded his head.

"I'm sure it'll all work out. It always does, doesn't it?" Alfred asked. The statement made Romano feel better, because it reminded him of what Antonio had told him the night they kissed for the first time, about the universe, or God, or some power over them all deciding certain things for them. The thought caused Alfred's smile to spread to Romano's face.

"Thank you." Romano finally told him. Alfred stood from the booth they were sitting in.

"Any time, man." Alfred simply told him with a more serious expression. The smile appeared on his face as quickly as it left, and with that Alfred gave a nod, and took his leave. Romano had to admit that he liked talking to the over-enthusiastic boy, he thought that maybe he would make a habit of it.

Romano sat in the booth just content with being alone for once that day. That morning, he visited his parents for his birthday and had a special Sunday brunch with them, before he returned to the college's campus, then came to that very diner.

The diner was fairly nice. It had a nineteen-fifties theme, with black and white checkered floors, red booths, and a gold sparkle that embellished booths, tables, and a few walls. It was the epitome of a classic American burger joint, and, he had to admit, Alfred looked like he fit right in.

The college that Romano attended was also the epitome of an American university. He had studied hard in high school just to attend this college with an all-star football team (that Alfred was a part of), fraternities (that Romano was thankful not to be a part of), and many buildings on an urban campus (which wasn't as exciting as one would think, considering the city's biggest attraction, was, indeed, the university itself). He went because that was where almost all the people in his class went. That was what was presented to him as not 'a college', but 'the college'. His adoptive family, teachers, students, even, pushed him to go there. It was the normal thing to do. It was the sensible thing to do. Despite its' overall lack of appeal to Romano, he had to admit that it wasn't all bad. It had fairly nice classrooms and facilities, and a magnificent library, which is where he stayed in his free time.

After letting his daydreams take him away just a little longer, he noticed that the sun was setting around him, and the diner was about to close. Quickly, he stood up and went to the person working the register to pay for his meal, but found that Alfred had already paid for it.

"He said it was a birthday present." The lady, clearly uninterested, told him.

Romano smiled nonetheless; it was a nice gesture. He noticed there was another lady left in the restaurant. She was at the register paying for her meal when Romano noticed her. She was older, not quite Roma's age, but probably close. Romano decided to stay for a few extra minutes so he could hold the door open for her. She smiled at him as he did so, and they both left the diner.

The next day, after Romano's classes were finished, he found himself in the library again. This was his favorite type of library day, because, on days like this he could just explore the vast collection before him on his own terms. He didn't have a research paper due that caused him to be neck deep in books about amphibians, he didn't have to go searching for a math-help book to aid him in statistics, or anything else that related to his core-classes. He knew he should've been getting a head-start of studying for final exams that would be coming up in a few weeks, but he refused to think about them on that day. Romano couldn't believe that, even with spending every day at that library for a school year, he hadn't been to every section of literature the place had to offer. He walked down many aisles until he came across a section that intrigued him.

"Photography." He said to himself as he read the sign on the book shelf.

Romano then found himself delving into the section. He thought back to how he loved taking photos in Spain, how he loved the feel of the camera in his hands, how he loved letting Francis and Antonio see his pictures, because it was like showing them how Romano saw things. With his pictures, he could express his point of view. With his pictures, he felt like he gained some understanding.

Romano knew that it was a waste of time to be looking through books about photography, when he didn't even plan on picking his camera up any time soon. He hadn't snapped a photo since leaving Spain, because he didn't feel like the new world around him was really worth capturing. He didn't particularly like what he saw, why would he want any innocent spectators to accidentally see his perspective on the place he was in?

But Romano still lost his rational battle and looked, and observed, the texts around him. It was the same type of loss that he remembered experiencing with Antonio. He knew it wasn't good for him in the long run, but it made him happier than he had been. It helped bring back memories of Spain that he had blocked because of the pain that would follow when it sunk in that he was gone from that wonderful place. It helped bring back a sense of hope that Romano lost.

He carried a few books along with him as he continued to walk through the library. He stopped when he came to a dead end, and was about to turn around when he saw a picture that caught his attention. It was a single frame with many pictures displayed in it.

Within the large frame was a picture of a little girl who looked a lot like the picture of his mother that Francis had shown him. They had the same eyes, hair, skin tone…everything was similar.

A week after Romano's strange encounter with the picture of his mother's look-alike, he saw the old woman from the diner in the library. Romano couldn't help but notice the lady's lingering stare aimed towards him.

Romano tried to imitate one of Antonio's warm smiles. He noticed that ever since he left Spain, he tried to smile at people more. It was like a healthy way of keeping Antonio with him, and it earned him some acquaintances at the college.

"I'm sorry for staring, young man. You just look very familiar." The old lady said this with a sincere smile.

"That's quite all right. I'm Romano Vargas." Romano smiled back.

It seemed the statement surprised the older lady. She stood, stunned, for a few seconds before the smile returned to her face.

"It's very nice to meet you, young man." She said, with, what was it, a sad expression on her face?

Romano sensed this and asked, "Is everything alright, ma'am?" He asked.

"Yes, it most certainly is. I'm afraid I'm just getting old and delusional."

She seemed to be in her early seventies, about ten years younger than Roma. Romano found it hard to imagine people younger than Roma not being sharp, for Roma, at eighty-one, still had a seemingly clear mind. At least, that's what Romano had picked up from the conversations he would have with his grandfather over the phone. He just had to assume that this lady was the exception.

The lady's name was Victoria, Romano had come to find out. Ever since their first encounter, they had met in the library every day and had conversation. She always told him how she appreciated such a "nice, gentlemanly man" talking to her, because she hadn't met anyone like Romano in years. Romano and his old soul and wandering eyes were a rarity from a generation that had long left her.

Romano also found out that she had Alzheimer's. She would slowly lose her memory, until basic things were out of her mind's reach. With their visits becoming more frequent, she repeated conversations, stories, many times, but Romano didn't mind. When he talked to Victoria, he couldn't help but feel like he was back in Spain.

The one thing the lady always remembered, though, was that Romano's name was Romano Vargas. She called him by name every time she would walk by his sofa, ready to sit down and ramble with him about just the simplest things.

"Romano Vargas." She started by saying that day.

She had arrived early, not even to their usual spot when she saw Romano. Instead, she found Romano in the depths of the bookshelves. He had just passed his coveted photography section and found himself, once again, staring at the picture of the little girl. But this time, he even held up the picture of his mother Francis had shown him, and that he had forced Francis to send to him. Romano wanted to see the resemblance himself. He wanted to know if his lonely mind was playing tricks on him, or if there actually was a connection. As he held up the picture he didn't hear, see, or sense anyone or anything else in the room. He just stood there gaping, because he finally saw it for himself. They looked identical. One was just an innocent little girl, and the other was a young woman, worn and torn by what life had thrown at her.

"Momma…" Romano said in his daze.

"Momma?" The older woman, who was behind him and who had witnessed it all, questioned.

Romano then came to his senses. He looked at her, apologetically, and wondered if he had accidentally been late for their usual meeting while gawking at the photograph before him.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, for being late. We can go back to the sofas so you can be more comfortable now…" Romano nervously said, a little shaken that she had witnessed his staring.

"That girl in the photo is me." She calmly told him.

Romano was once again shocked.

"I'm sorry for staring, but you looked a lot like my mother." Romano then told her after gaining some of his composure back.

"May I see her?" Victoria asked.

Romano smiled and handed the picture over. The older lady gladly took it and smiled at her look-alike.

"I think I might've looked like this. It's hard to remember completely, but I have a feeling." She smiled.

"I never knew her. I was given up for adoption when I was a baby because my mother and grandfather didn't have the means to raise me. I finally met my grandfather and biological family last year, but Mamma passed away before I could meet her. I'm sorry for staring at your picture like that, but seeing it, seeing the resemblance, made me feel closer to her, to that family, in a way. It won't happen again, though." Romano gave an apologetic smile and Victoria returned it to him.

"You look all you want to. Thank you for letting me see your mother," she told him.

There was a moment of silence before she spoke again.

"One thing I do remember is that I was actually from a wealthy family. I found love in the life I grew up in, until that was taken away from me. All because of that wealth, and trying to maintain it." She paused, "Oh well, that was many years ago. You can't take back the past, you know?" She said.

"You're right." Romano said. She hit it on the nose. It was like she wasn't speaking about her life anymore, but about his own, in a way. Not the life that Romano had lived for a year, but the one where he was happiest. It was like she was talking about his life with Antonio.

"Why don't you go back?" He asked her.

"Too much has changed for me, young man. Years ago…years ago I wanted to return, but I couldn't. Life happened." She furrowed her brows thinking, trying to remember, " There were opportunities here... My family owned a humble restaurant, but expanded when we got here. I went to school at this very university, and I taught for many years. That's how my picture is up there, I suppose."

Romano just nodded at this.

"Have you lived a good life?" He asked her just as Roma had asked him.

She smiled.

"I suppose so." She said. "It wasn't exactly what I probably would've chosen, but I made the best of it. All I know is that things would've been very different if I had stayed."

"Where is it you left?" Romano finally asked.

"Rome, Italy." She simply replied, more sure of this than anything else.

Romano stayed up all night that night. His thoughts raced as he couldn't get the images of the old woman, the little girl the old woman had been, and his mother out of his head.

'She's from Rome, Italy. She looked like my mother. They have to be connected. What if she's….? Don't be silly. You must just miss Antonio or something and want a connection that isn't there… You're just tired, Romano… Go to sleep, Romano…"

Romano tossed and turned for thirty seven minutes, and every second marked a new level in restlessness in Romano.

"I can't sleep because I think I just found my Grandmother!" Romano shouted at the thirty-eighth minute. He didn't even care who might've heard.

Right after he said it his phone rang. Romano, still a bit frantic, answered it.

"Hello?!" He asked, a bit harsher than he meant for it to sound.

"Romano! Are you okay?" It was Francis. Romano could tell, even in his almost delusional, tired state that something wasn't right about Francis's voice. It wasn't as warm and deep as usual, and it shook, not from his accent's usual tones, but from what seemed like a lacing of nervousness.

"I'm fine. What is it?" Romano asked, Francis's worried voice becoming his own.

"You need to come to Rome, immediately." Francis told him. His voice lost its nervous vibrations and took on a serious and firm dialect while saying this.

Romano couldn't even question it. He was aware of the fact that he had less than a quarter left until he finished his freshman year of college there and that exams were approaching. He was aware of the fact that Victoria was probably used to their daily conversations. He was even aware that, Alfred, who had been kind to him on his birthday had slowly become Romano's best friend and that he would probably ponder hours upon hours on where Romano had left to, if he decided to leave. This was instant. He realized that, all those things he would've questioned if it weren't two in the morning and if he hadn't tirelessly been thinking about his family in Europe, were just going to have to wait on him. They were going to wait to be dealt with because his life, his family, his first real home had waited a whole year to be dealt with. For a whole year he had pushed them aside and treaded their surface because he was scared of what? Getting hurt? Wanting to go back? In that moment, Romano didn't even let these things cross his mind, or anything in particular, for he was too tired for his mind to work like it had for the past year and the most beautiful thing happened.

'Sometimes, the heart is ahead of the mind.' Flashed before Romano faster than he could truly analyze it or ponder it.

"I'm coming." Romano told Francis as he hurriedly packed a suitcase. He, even with only a few senses that merged with the dreams and inner workings of his mind and beating heart, managed to grab the plastic card his parents gave him "to only use in an emergency". Emergency or not, he urgently swung the door open and slammed it behind him, not caring who heard.

He frantically just kept going. Going and expelling energy he had locked away for a whole year. His heart beat like it was making up for lost time. His mind raced like it was running after the lost time. His body was literally running after the lost time.

Romano didn't stop running until he was seated on a plane to Rome. Then, a wave of exhaustion hit him before he could realize what was happening and he slept a dreamless slumber. He didn't know what his dreams were anymore. He just knew he was on a plane to Rome that nothing in the world was going to allow him to miss.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

When Romano stepped off the plane he instantly felt the sunlight again. In an instant, he felt like he had seen the sun for the first time in a whole year. Rome's sun wasn't exactly like Spain's, but it was close, and any warmth felt better than none. There seemed to be no warmth like that in his hometown. Sure, there were a few nice landscapes, if one is taken by such things, and there are nice people, like Victoria, and even Alfred, who Romano had come to know as his only true American friend.

Alfred was so different than Romano. Alfred was an "All American Boy" who liked football, and alcohol that comes in cans packaged together in sets of six. He liked action movies and was sometimes overly-assertive of his opinions, which would fuel the two friend's arguments. And yes, they argued a lot. This bickering was what simply made their friendship work, in Romano's opinion, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Romano could say anything to Alfred and never fear what the other's reaction would be, because Alfred certainly said whatever came to _his_ mind and, even if he completely objected to Romano's point of view, Alfred would just argue it out with Romano until they were too tired and ate junk food together late into the night. And yes, Romano had gained memories of waking up on the floor in Alfred's dorm with a pizza box as a pillow, the taste of hamburgers in his mouth, grease and garlic in his hair, all while cuddling a box of donuts. But, as much of a slobby, annoying, and arrogant hamburger bastard Alfred was, he was Romano's slobby, annoying, and arrogant hamburger bastard, and he was his best friend. And Romano's new best friend seemed to have one of the biggest heart's Romano had ever known.

Alfred took Romano in at his lowest point, and helped him feel a little better. He never pushed him to be happy, he just listened and tried to soften the blows brought on by the pain of being apart from where he felt happiest, where he felt most at home, even though Spain, and Francis, and Antonio technically weren't his home. It was a strange type of reverse home-sickness that Romano was dealing with, that even he didn't understand the depths of at times, that Alfred soothed him through. Alfred didn't ask him to justify anything. He didn't judge him. He didn't even try to make Romano "see the bright side" like others might have. He just listened as Romano told stories about Spain. He just listened as Romano ranted on and on about how miserable he was in America, how miserable he was without the people he loved, on nights when he would storm into Alfred's dorm room, a bottle of whatever wine he could get in his hands on, already drunk enough to let himself go into detailed descriptions of exactly what he felt, that he would never let out when sober. On those nights, Romano would drink and drink, a part of him cursing his high tolerance to alcohol that never let him lose himself enough to just forget everything before his bottle ran out. When he was done and in as much of a drunken state as his body would allow, he would crawl into Alfred's bed and cry into one of the pillows. Alfred just sat with him, gently put a hand to his back, and rubbed circles on it until Romano calmed down enough to fall asleep. Alfred would always greet Romano the next morning with his perfect smile, some aspirin, and a bucket. Romano knew that only a true friend would deal with all of that mess.

That's why Alfred was the first one that Romano called.

"Hey, buddy! I didn't see you in class today! You skipping?" Alfred asked, a joking tone to his voice.

Romano smiled a bit.

"I guess you could say that." Romano took a deep breath. "Look, Alfred, I'm in Rome right now. I just wanted to tell you so you didn't worry."

"You're where?!" Alfred, obviously shocked, asked.

"I'm in Rome. Francis called me and told me to come immediately. Look, I don't know exactly how long I'll be here. I don't even know the situation, but it seemed urgent."

"But exams are in two weeks!" Alfred exclaimed.

"I know. I'll try to make it back before then." Romano's voice dropped to a very serious tone that Alfred knew he only used to convey something much deeper.

"I need to be here right now." Romano said in that tone.

Alfred nodded. Realizing he was, indeed, still talking on the phone, he vocalized his reassurance.

"Do what you have to do, buddy." There was a pause before Alfred spoke again.

"Do me a favor and try to let yourself be happy, just while you're there, okay? Good luck, Romano."

"Thanks Alfred." Romano hung up.

Right after Romano put his cell phone away he looked up to see a familiar red convertible in front of him. He had been standing in the parking lot outside the airport, the hot sun drenching him in sweat, as he was dressed far too warmly for the weather in Rome. Romano planned on hailing a taxi and checking into a hotel nearby, but, judging by the site in front of him, it seemed his plan had changed.

Francis didn't hesitate to run up to Romano and engulf him in a hug. It had been so long since he had seen Romano. He kissed him on the forehead and held his shoulders as he backed away a little to get a look at Romano. In just one year, he had changed so much. He grew a little. Romano was still rather short, but he was a bit taller than he used to be. Romano's face and body had gotten slightly bigger, too. Francis blamed this on the American diet he loved to criticize. It seemed the infamous "Freshman Fifteen" couldn't be avoided by any American teenager, even Romano. Despite that, though, Francis couldn't help but note that Romano was still handsome. He had Roma's good genes that allowed his slight weight gain to not take away from his charming features. Romano still had those wandering eyes, that endearing hair flip, and that expression that was unique to Roma and Romano. Romano still had Roma's wonderful something, but, most importantly to Francis, Romano still had that thing about him that made him Romano. That made him, still, Francis's younger brother.

"Mon petit frère, you're gorgeous." Francis said with a sentimental smile as he held Romano's face in his hands. Without dropping his delicate, yet long fingers from Romano's jawline, Francis said, "Let's go. Zhere's a lot to be said."

Without any further explanation, Romano got in the car.

They rode on a silent car ride throughout the streets of Rome. Romano tried to imagine it like his first ride through Spain, but simply couldn't. It wasn't that they were in a different country, with different people, and different areas to explore, because Romano believed that Rome would have given him that feeling of pure wanderlust if the car ride he was on took place a year ago. He tried to have that movie moment again, but it was like the world wouldn't let him. It was like his very being wouldn't let him. He knew better in that moment of certain things. He knew better than to be completely relaxed because of the way that Francis gripped the steering wheel. He held it tightly and firmly in his hands as his eyes were intent on the road. He was wearing one of his signature flowy, pink shirts, but Romano couldn't help but imagine the way Francis's muscles tensed underneath the garment. While Francis's right leg controlled the peddles, his left leg stayed dangerously still. When Romano's eyes finally made it to Francis's face, he noticed a look he had never seen before. Francis was a good bit older than Romano, but, for some reason, whenever Romano saw him or thought about him, Francis was a young, strong, and smart man to him. He always had an ageless beauty about him that caused one to think of him as a sweet little boy one second, and an older, wiser man the next. But, on that day, Romano saw age for the first time appear on Francis. Romano doubted it was because of a year passing, because the amount of aging Romano saw was beyond what would normally happen in a year's time. Francis had dark circles. His usually flawless skin had an almost discolored hue. But it wasn't the physically describable things that caused the most aging. It was the elder's expression. Francis wore his worry, depression, grief possibly on his face.

'What happened this past year to cause that?' Romano wondered.

Romano was soon led into a large, older looking home, that he just knew was Roma's. It was a nice home located on a hill overlooking a small market area below, a stunning location. The house itself was a handsome type of run down. It had tall, tan walls that seemed to be peeling with age. Vines grew up the side of the house, and, as Romano stepped closer, he noticed an over-grown garden resting at the house's side, toward the back. The garden had more weeds than actual flowers, from what Romano saw, and parts were covered by stones. It looked as if it had been years sense anyone tended to it, and, if they had even tried to work with it, some person just decided to just lay stones down to keep the endlessly growing weeds somewhat controlled, instead of taking the time to make it beautiful again. Yes, Romano truly believed it was once a gorgeous place. It covered a large area, but not so large that it would be impossible to handle, or one might've thought. The weather was nice, so he figured that plants would grow well in the spot. Rome was warm, but the garden was slightly shaded by a small balcony right above it. Romano then thought about whoever might've gone out on that balcony, when the garden was beautiful. He figured it must've been nice.

'If only someone cared to tend to the garden.' Romano thought, before a more haunting realization occurred to him.

'What would cause the garden to stop being cared for?' Romano's mind them took him to even more haunting of places, as he came to conclusions that probably explained things. It had become painful for him to think of Roma's past. Those thoughts were the chains that locked him in America. He would tell himself constantly that it would be good for him, too, staying and having the traditional life his parents and everyone else convinced him to live, but, genuinely, he knew that Roma was what, really, kept him there. Roma sacrificed himself for Romano to have that life. Romano couldn't let that go to waste.

"Romano! Come inside! We 'ave s'ings to do!" Francis broke Romano out of his thoughts with a loud, authoritative, and almost annoyed voice.

Romano turned around, a bit surprised at Francis's tone. Francis never lost his cool, and up until that moment, Romano doubted the man could get angry. He was always easy going before, and, though he was an older brother figure, Francis never tried to assert it with such force. Romano knew not to take the new scolding personally, because, though he wasn't sure of the extent of what had happened to him, he knew he must've been under a lot of stress. He couldn't help but notice the lines that formed around his mouth and eyes as he spoke.

'What happened?' Romano, again, wondered.

He was led into the house by Francis, who also carried his suitcase. The interior of the house was a bit nicer than the outside, but, still, obviously needed some work. It had high walls that were covered with plaster and painted an almost rosy, tan color. Romano could tell, even from far away that the beautifully colored walls needed a paint job and other projects to fix the many cracks, holes, and scuffs from wear and tear over the years. As he walked behind Francis up the wooden stairs he noticed how badly they creaked and how the wood was scratched up in many places, and desperately needed to be dusted. As he continued his observations of the home he was walking through, he couldn't help but notice the thick layer of dust that covered almost everything. The whole house was a beautiful mess, to be honest. It had stunning bone structure, with it's elegant walkways engraved with patterns on the walls bordering them, with it's old fashioned iron locks on every door, with it's beautiful pieces of antique wooden furniture with the dust and sadness from never being used, never being admired, that attempted to taint its beauty. Attempted.

He was soon led into a room two doors down, the on the left of the hallway of the second floor. He stepped in and started to take a look around when he heard a thump on the floor beside the bed. Romano turned and realized it was Francis loudly setting his luggage down, probably to intentionally snap Romano out of his daydreams again.

"Come on. You can look later." Francis simply told him before walking out, expecting Romano to follow.

It was like he had become a different person.

Romano soon found himself walking toward another wooden door at the end of the hall. Before he could go in, Francis stopped him.

"Look, 'e's not doing well. Let 'im talk ze most and be gentile. Be friendly."

Romano nodded, ready to go in before Francis stopped him once again. This time, he pulled Romano into an embrace and leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"You know zhat you are also 'is grandson?"

Romano looked up into Francis's tired eyes. He let his thoughts of Roma that he carried through the past year, of always keeping his grandfather in his mind and heart as he pushed through his studies, of always feeling connected to his family there, attempt to diffuse through himself to Francis as he spoke.

"Of course I know." He told him.

With a small, knowing smile Francis sent Romano on his way.

Roma was different. When Romano had first seen him, he was a loud, cheerful, fun man, who, like Francis, rarely showed his age. As Romano entered the dusty, lightly sunlit room, he knew that man was gone, or, at least, leaving. The man that Romano saw on that day was much older. He looked tired, not just physically, but mentally as well. Roma made it appear like his whole body weighed a thousand pounds, but, looking at him, Romano knew Roma would be lucky to even weigh a hundred pounds. His tan skin had faded to a dull yellow and it sagged in a few places, probably adding to the weight. Nonetheless, Roma gave a slight smile, probably the biggest one he could give, as he saw Romano enter the room.

"Romano! My amazing grandson! I'm glad you could make it. Come, sit." Roma told him with a weak, hoarse voice. Romano carefully sat on the edge of the bed.

"How is school?" Roma asked, as if talking to his American grandson was a common occurrence.

"It's been going well. I made this crazy friend named…" Romano then stopped what he knew would be the beginning of him talking too much. He remembered what Francis had just told him and decided to let Roma do most of the talking. But there was one thing Romano knew he could talk about, no, that he needed to talk about, with Roma.

"I met this woman. She's about ten years younger than you are. Her name is Victoria. I noticed she…" before Romano could finish, Roma's voice stopped Romano's talking.

"She looks like your mother doesn't she?" Roma asked, deeply thinking about what Romano might tell him next.

"Yes. Well, not so much anymore, but, in a photo when she was younger. She looked almost identical to a picture of Mamma that Francis showed me."

Roma nodded his head like the wise old man he had truly become.

"I suppose you want to know about her, then?"

"Yes, actually. If you don't mind telling me."

"No. Not at all. It needs to be said before it completely goes unspoken."

Romano wanted to ask what that meant, but he knew that that would deter Roma from the conversation they were about to have, the one Romano desperately needed to have.

"I think you've already figured out that she's your Grandmother." Roma stated as he looked up at Romano for an answer. The small nod was all he needed to continue.

 _It was a rainy day in November when Roma Vargas saw the person that would change his life forever._

 _Roma was twenty-seven years old. He was a handsome young man with brown, curly hair, and eyes that were a more golden hue of hazel. He came from humble beginnings that allowed him to end up in the current job he was working the moment he saw her. He worked in a small, yet classy restaurant, and his current role, at the time, was a bit undefined, as he found himself simply stepping into whatever positon was needed. If they were low on cooks, he proudly wore the chef's hat. He wasn't afraid to bus tables, and he adored conversation, so, naturally, his days as a waiter were his favorite. But on that day, he found himself using his acquired strength from previous, more strenuous, jobs, as he lifted boxes, upon boxes of product and carried them in through the restaurant's back door, the rain drenching him in the process._

 _Even though he was all the way at the back of the restaurant, even though he was up to his nose in boxes that had to be carried in, even though a part of him continued to get onto himself for only wearing a simple white t-shirt and a pair of jeans that day to work, causing the cold air and water to bite is skin and leave him shivering as he tried to hold the product steady, he saw her. With one glance, he knew who she was. She was his boss's, the very owner of the restaurant's, daughter. With one glance, he also knew that he had fallen for her._

 _She had the most beautiful silky black hair he had ever seen. She was of medium build, and had light, rosy skin, which differed very much from Roma's olive tone he had acquired from many years of working outside in Rome's blazing sun. These features were the perfect backdrop for the most gorgeous eyes he had ever seen. They were a deep violet, and the rain that day seemed to illuminate them beautifully, making them shine and sparkle like crystals, like two perfect amethyst stones. He knew she didn't usually come to the restaurant, as she was usually busy with her studies that her father liked to brag about her excelling in. Beautiful and smart, Roma really liked that._

 _"_ _Hey, I'm going to take a smoke break. I'll be right back." Roma quickly told the other employee helping him. Roma didn't smoke, his fellow comrade knew this, but he also knew that Roma was one of the most hard working people there, who deserved a break, so he let him go._

 _He quickly walked in through the back door and rushed to the front, forgetting about the fact that he worked in a rather fancy establishment, with nice flooring, tables, and glass wear. It was the type of place that elegant men and women dressed in their best clothes to dine in, and would always end up with a bill containing more zeros than Roma had ever seen in his life. Yes, Roma definitely wasn't thinking as he carelessly darted to the front door as the young woman made her entrance, knocking over three trays the waiters were about to deliver, and soaking the nice, carpeted floor, all while wearing an old, sweaty t shirt and faded, paint-stained jeans, that even had a hole in the knee from previous jobs he had had to wear them to._

 _All he was thinking about was the girl in front of him._

 _She gave him a small smile when he finally made his way up to her, and immediately he threw on the charm. He gracefully took her coat and hung it neatly on the nearest rack, taking such good care of it, as if it was very expensive and important (and, to him, it was. It was certainly worth more than he could afford, at least). He then began to introduce himself._

 _"_ _Ciao! I'm Roma Vargas." He said with his characteristically charming grin, before his almost goofy expression turned warmer._

 _"_ _May I have the honor of leading you to your table?" he asked before he took her hand and began to lead her._

 _"_ _Roma! What are you doing?!" An older, more sophisticated man yelled at Roma. It was his boss. The owner of the restaurant, and the beautiful young lady's father._

 _Roma quickly dropped his hand and tried to hide the disappointment on his face, along with the slight blush that he developed._

 _"_ _I'm sorry, sir. I was just…" Roma started._

 _Before his boss could grow any angrier at him, a voice stopped the commotion all together._

 _"_ _He was just leading me to my table." The young lady confidently told her father. Roma was happily surprised. He was finally able to hear her sweet voice._

 _'_ _And, did she just stick up for me? To her own father?' he wondered._

 _"_ _Yes, but look at the scene he's caused!" The man angrily turned to Roma._

 _"_ _This will come out of your paycheck." He firmly told Roma._

 _Roma was saddened by this. He really did need the money, but, despite this, there was still a big part of him that didn't really care, that thought it was worth it just to see the boss's amazing daughter up close, to touch her hand, to hear her voice._

 _Roma then heard her voice again._

 _"_ _But, father, it was really my fault." She told his boss._

 _Roma was shocked at this. She really was helping him out. Her father wasn't buying it, though._

 _"_ _How is any of this your fault? You didn't soak the floor or break the glass wear." He asked, his anger rising in his tone._

 _"_ _Well of course not! I just caused the accidents. You see, I called him over in a hurry to get out of the rain and seated. He was simply being a good employee. If anything, I think you should reward him for attending to my needs so quickly, on top of that, the service was simply phenomenal." She said this with a smile in Roma's direction. He instantly lit up and smiled back, before, again, turning to his boss as he began speaking._

 _"_ _I guess I can let this one slide. I have other things to attend to." He looked toward his daughter._

 _"_ _Just behave yourself." He firmly told her. Without losing his expression, he turned to Roma._

 _"_ _And you, get back to work. If that product is soaked I really will have a reason to cut your pay."_

 _"_ _Yes sir." Both of them simultaneously said. Before parting, Roma turned to the girl._

 _"_ _Thank you." He told her with a gracious smile._

 _She smiled back._

 _"_ _Victoria." She said._

 _"_ _What was that?" Roma asked her._

 _"_ _That's the name to ask for when you visit me after school during the week. I always go to the library when class ends at four. I assume you know where the school is?"_

 _"_ _Yes." Roma said with a happy, surprised, and endearing expression._

 _The following Monday, Roma eagerly stepped foot on the school's campus. He came a few minutes before school ended so he would have more time to find the library, because he certainly did not want to be late. He quickly found it though, which caused him to actually be the one waiting on Victoria instead of having her wait on him. He preferred it that way, anyway, though._

 _He didn't even have to ask for her when he instantly saw her walking through the doors. She was wearing the same heavy coat from just a few nights before, when they first officially met, and her eyes were simply unmistakable._

 _"_ _Victoria!" he called. Suddenly, he realized that he was, indeed, in a library and that he would have to keep it down. Embarrassed, he puts his hands over his lips before grinning as he took them away to mouth a "Sorry," to Victoria, and putting his hands back up._

 _She just smiled and made her way up the stairs, where Roma had spotted her._

 _When she finally made it to him, she grabbed his wrists to bring his arms down to rest at his sides as she whispered to him, "It's okay. I come here enough to truthfully tell you it happens all the time."_

 _Roma smiled. She still hadn't let go of his wrists. Taking this opportunity, Roma gently shifted his arms to free them, and rearranged them to where his hands held hers._

 _He looked at her and whispered a, "You look so beautiful today." to her._

 _She blushed at this._

 _They ended up finding a seat on a sofa that was slightly distanced from the main parts of the library. They were in a location where they could more freely talk without getting shushed by a, to Roma, "scary librarian who feeds off the souls of simple, pasta loving, Italian men."_

 _They talked about each other. She found out about his past, and he found out how boring his life was compared to hers. She was going to be a law student, who didn't mind her studies, but always felt her passions were elsewhere._

 _"_ _What is it you love to do then?" Roma asked._

 _She hesitated before speaking._

 _"_ _I like art." She told him, her head hung low, not daring to look at Roma._

 _"_ _I think that's wonderful!" he happily told her._

 _She perked up at this. She gave Roma the prettiest smile he had ever seen, and, before he even had time to admire it, threw her arms around his neck. She pulled him into a deep hug, and Roma was the happiest he had ever been in his entire life. The moment was somewhat cut short when he realized she wasn't just hugging him, but his shoulder was damp. She was crying on his shoulder._

 _"_ _Hey. What is it?" he calmly asked her, trying to soothe the one he already cared so much about._

 _Victoria then looked up at him._

 _Still sniffling, she said, "It's just…It's just that you're the first one to ever tell me that. My whole life, I feel like all I've been told is "no" and "you must do this instead". And I have to go along with it because that's what was set out for me, you know? I honestly hate it. But, then I think about you. Roma, you're so warm, and funny, and kind-hearted, and just wonderful, but you don't…you don't have half the things I do. I think I hate my life but then I realize that others have it worse and that I really am the 'poor little rich girl' people have made me out to be. I just…"_

 _Before she could say another word, Roma kissed her to get her to just stop. After they broke away, he spoke again._

 _"_ _That's not true and you know it. Money only pretends to change things, I've found. I've never had anything, but I've never hated my life, but that's because I've always had love and hope around me. Of course you hate your life. I would've hated your life, no offense. Sure, it might be nice to have better clothes, and jobs that didn't leave me aching the next morning, or a better education, but I deal with not having those things because they aren't worth my overall happiness. I hate how the world's changing these days. It used to be okay to be a simple person who loves life and everything around him, even if he owned next to nothing. But now, being poor is like committing a sin. And I don't even consider myself poor! Especially now that I've hit a certain jackpot."_

 _"_ _And what is that?" She asked him._

 _"_ _It's you." He told her, causing her previous sadness to disappear. She hugged him again, this time, really letting him hold her close as she rested her head in his chest._

 _"_ _You're more valuable than anything I've ever owned." She muttered into his chest. He caught every word and let himself really exhale and smile as pure bliss overtook him._

 _They began to meet every week day when Victoria's classes ended. Soon, they realized they were in love._

 _They had dreams of running away together. They would stay up into ungodly hours of the night plotting their escape. She would break into her father's safe the night of their departure, and get just enough money to start them off, but not to make a big difference, so her father wouldn't suspect that they stole it. She would meet him outside the library after already telling her father about a late night study session with her fellow honor students, where Roma would be waiting for her with a map. At exactly two a.m., they would hop the school's fence and run to the car repair shop Roma also worked at. There, they would steal one of the cars and drive northward until they hit Venice. In Venice, they would quickly leave their car and hop on a boat to whatever country they could get to, and change their names when they got there, making sure to have the same last name so they could live as a married couple and raise their family together. This type of conversation became more apparent as Victoria's pregnancy progressed._

 _Yes, they certainly did become close as their love grew. Victoria fooled her parents into thinking she was attending boarding school in France, when really, she faked fatally sick when she arrived at the school, was sent home. And she did go home. She went to the closest place to a home she had ever found. She went to Roma._

 _For about a year they lived a happy life together, like two newlyweds, who eventually, anxiously awaited the arrival of their first child. Roma knew it wasn't going to last. Victoria had one year left of high school, so she would have to return to her parents soon, without him and, somehow, without her child. He wanted to just marry her when she moved in, but that was impossible. So, they made the best of it. They acted like it was never going to end._

 _Until it did begin to end._

 _Roma held his two babies in his arms for the first time. Two babies. He couldn't believe it. They were so beautiful. The oldest by two minutes was a little boy who looked a lot like him, and the youngest was a sweet little girl who looked exactly like her mother. He turned to the bed that Victoria was laying on and just smiled at her as he walked toward her and let her hold their children, the one thing that, no matter what happened, would always keep the two soulmates connected. She looked into their eyes and instantly felt a wave of both instant love and regret. She loved these children. She regretted the fact that she would never know them, so she settled for the second best thing._

 _"_ _Roma." She said._

 _"_ _Yes dear?"_

 _"_ _Please take care of our babies." She smiled down at them once again. With teary eyes she began to speak again to Roma, to herself, to God or whoever might've been listening._

 _"_ _Please let them be happy." She said. Her eyes completely filled with tears and Roma came to lie beside her on the bed, taking a baby, the little girl, in his arms._

 _This is how they slept every night until Roma woke up one morning and saw his two sweet babies staring at him with wide eyes, the little girl looking so much like her mother already, in the place of the love of his life._

 _Victoria's whole family moved away shortly after. And Roma only ever saw Victoria again through his own daughter._

"I just, sometimes feel like we could've done it, you know? We could've just taken the babies with us, and gotten married, and raised them like we planned. I know it's awful but…" Roma couldn't even continue talking. Hearing his grandfather's sobbing brought Romano back to the present, and he knew he needed to comfort the man.

Even though he hadn't talked at all, Romano still didn't feel like saying anything, so he just wrapped the old and withering man into an embrace.

Roma calmed down shortly after and pulled away, still gently holding onto Romano's shoulders. He tried to smile but it didn't reach his eyes, which still remained sad and tired. Nonetheless, he gently spoke to Romano in the clearest voice he could muster.

"My grandson, I love you so much, and have ever since I first saw you. I want you to take opportunities, and I want you to be happy." He then leaned in closer and whispered in Romano's ear, "Romano Lovino Vargas. To go to America, to learn, to succeed, to be found, to be loved. Momma and Grandpa, Feliciana and Roma Vargas."

Romano let himself smile a bit. Roma had told him what was written on the back of the grocery receipt that was sent to America with him. Roma, even in his old age, still remembered. He still remembered his love for his grandson, who had recently been lost and found. Sitting on the bed, watching Roma slowly begin to fall asleep, he felt as if he was being found all over again.

Romano stood up and was about to exit the room when a sudden impulse, or even a force of some kind, caused him to stop, turn around, and softly speak to his grandfather, even if he couldn't hear him.

"I love you, Grandpa Roma. It's going to be okay."

Those were Romano's last words to Roma.

As Romano stood in the church in his nice black suit he couldn't help but look around him before the ceremony started. He was curious as to who Roma knew during his lifetime. There wasn't a huge turnout, but there was enough for Romano to know just how loved his grandfather was. He immediately stopped his gaze when he spotted a familiar face across the room.

There, standing on the other side of the church, directly across from him, was Antonio. Antonio's eyes seemed to lock on Romano just as Romano's locked on him, and in an instant, the key was turned and they were walking toward each other. It was like a magnetic force pulled them, because, within seconds, Romano was less than a foot in front of Antonio, and, in half a second, Romano was in Antonio's arms, wondering why he ever left Antonio's embrace so long ago.

They let a few moments pass before they said anything, but eventually, Antonio broke the silence.

"I don't know exactly what to say, Romano…I'm sorry. I'm sorry for your loss…But I'm also sorry you never got to really know him. He was so good. He lit up every room he walked into, and everybody wasn't his friend. They were his family."

Antonio kept his arms around Romano as he pulled back a little, just to lock eyes with him again.

He smiled a bit.

"You know, the man taught me everything I know about the restaurant business. When I was young and just starting out as a server, he would call me every day and ask me how my shift went. If something went wrong, he would tell me how to fix it. Many years ago, before his health began to decline, he would visit at least three times a year. When he stayed he would always come to the Cantina while I was working and give me pointers. He taught me how to cook. After Francis, he was the first one I came out to. I only knew him a few years, but in that time, I really saw him as my Grandpa, too. And that's just the type of man he was. He was everyone's Grandpa."

Antonio's eyes began to water as a few stray tears began to stream down his cheeks.

"I'm going to really miss that man." He told Romano as he pulled him in for another hug.

Romano just let himself be hugged by the man he so dearly loved, even still. He let himself be hugged as he held onto Antonio for dear life, not wanting to lose anyone else anytime soon, not wanting to lose Antonio again.

Then, the ceremony started.

The preacher preached a beautiful sermon, or at least Romano assumed, as his Italian wasn't the best. What made it beautiful, to Romano, was the love in the room for his Grandpa Roma, and the man sitting beside him as Romano became overwhelmed by different emotions, all to have them disappear in sudden instants. The only thing that kept him completely tied to something, that allowed him to still feel _something_ at certain points, was the hand that so firmly, yet, at the same time, delicately, held his.

Then, Feliciano, his little brother, got up to speak.

"Ciao. I'm Feliciano. One of Roma's grandsons." Feliciano said this while trying to smile, trying to be his usual, happy self, but something in him just wasn't allowing it. Not that day. Not at that moment.

It was like Romano could feel Feliciano's tears beginning in his own throat before Feliciano tried to speak again. It was like Feliciano's emotions suddenly weren't his own anymore, as both brothers felt a similar pain that only they felt. That only they shared. Feliciano continued despite this pain.

"Grandpa Roma was the most amazing person and grandfather. I like to think that, though he has three grandsons and others who he loved like grandchildren, I feel like I was the luckiest one. He raised me. When Momma died, he was really sad, and yet he still tried to make me happy. I didn't understand that much at the time, but now I understand the pain of losing someone. I loved him so much, but now he's gone. He's with Momma now." Feliciano paused.

"And, now I'm the one left alone." His tears flooded at this as he almost wasn't able to say the words.

"Now I know how bad he must've felt, being alone to raise me. I know how hard that must've been. Because I could never do that with how I feel right now. He was so strong, and all he did was give. He gave and gave until he just couldn't do it anymore. But, because of that, I think we all now have a special piece of him in our hearts, that we'll never forget. I can't ever forget the things he's done for me, the things he gave to me, the things he gave up for me." Feliciano then turned to the casket just a few feet away from him, that held his grandfather's body.

He didn't care if anyone else heard. This was the last physical thing he would see of his amazing Grandpa Roma. He turned his back to the audience before him and gently laid his hands on the closed casket's lid. He pressed his face as close as he could get to his Grandpa Roma, and whispered, "I love you, Grandpa Roma. Thank you for everything you've done for me."

He then quickly stood up as he felt a wave of hot tears hit him, and he ran out of the church. Romano, feeling the same wave overtake himself, ran after his little brother. Within moments, the two brothers were desperately clinging to each other.

Romano spoke first.

"Feliciano, I know we haven't talked much in the past, but I get it. I know we weren't raised even close to the same, but I feel what you feel. We're brothers. I want you to know that aren't alone, okay? We have each other, and we always will. We have the people that are here today, sweating like pigs in their black suits and dresses in that church that, for some reason, doesn't have air conditioning when its ninety degrees outside…um thirty-two degrees in Celsius…and…and…I just love you, okay? I know I haven't known you long, or talked to you much, but I love this family, and I love being an older brother, and I love you, Feli."

Feliciano didn't say much of anything for a while, he just let himself settle into Romano's arms. Finally, he began to stir and said something.

"What was that?" Romano asked.

"I'm hot. Like you said, it's thirty-two degrees out here." He wiggled himself out of Romano's arms. Then, he looked up and smiled at Romano.

"And I said that you're my brother, and that I love you, too."

Romano just smiled at this. He finally looked around to see that the actual funeral was over, and the people were exiting the church, some going home, some staying for the burial. Romano quickly glanced at Francis, hoping he was okay, and was relieved to find him standing with the other person he was worried about, Antonio, and some other man he didn't know. The other man was relatively tall, with pale skin, hair that was practically white, and red eyes. From the way they were all talking to each other, still a bit sad, but with a somewhat lighter aura about them, Romano assumed that they must've been old college friends. That was where Francis originally met Antonio, after all. Romano brought his attention back to Feliciano, and smiled at him once again.

"Hey Feli?" he asked.

"Yes, Romano?"

"We'll always have each other, okay? Anytime you feel alone, you can always turn to me, even if I'm not physically there to turn to." Romano thought for a moment.

"But, you know what? I'm going to try to actually be here more."

"Really?" Feliciano asked, happily perplexed.

"Really. We're family. Family shouldn't be apart for that long."

And Romano meant it. He loved these people. He loved Roma, but was too absent to spend enough time with him. He loved Francis, and Feliciano, and Antonio. He loved Antonio with all his heart, even still.

He looked out to the crowd again and found Antonio, who, once again, caught his gaze. He knew he would see his family more, and, in turn, see Antonio, but would that be enough?

He thought about his life there and his life in America. His carefully planned life with his parents, and Alfred, and Victoria, his grandmother. That brought back another regret, Victoria didn't come. Victoria didn't even know.

As much as Romano hated it, he knew that in another week he would find himself on a plane again, leaving his family behind for the second time. He knew about the pain he would experience all over again, coupled with new pain from his loss, but he had to go back.

He brought his focus back to Antonio.

He would have to leave him again. He would have to leave them all again.

That's when he realized he left his camera in America.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The day that Romano always dreaded came all too soon. It was the day he was to return to America. That time, though, he felt heavier.

During and after his first experience abroad, when he was a much younger man, in his own opinion, he felt like he was walking on water.

During and after his second experience abroad, Roma's death left him feeling so heavy, it was as if he was walking through that water.

On the plane back, he sat back in his seat and dreaded what was to come, for some of the things he encountered in Rome would be returning to America with him.

The good things, however, were not.

When the plane landed, Romano quickly grabbed his things and got into the passenger's seat of Alfred's red truck. Alfred attempted a conversation.

"So how was it?" he cheerfully asked, unaware of everything that happened.

Romano looked up and tried to smile. He thought about the things he had enjoyed. He enjoyed seeing Francis again, even if the man wasn't exactly the same. Romano couldn't even blame him; he found out that Francis, on top of an already busy work schedule, had been taking care of everyone else that Romano had enjoyed seeing again. Francis was simply a bit worn down from holding Roma, Feliciano, and Antonio on his shoulders. But Romano would always be thankful to the man for taking care of them in his absence.

"It was nice." Romano simply said.

Alfred wanted to talk more but he also felt like there was more to the story that Romano might not have wanted to get into. That's why he simply let the conversation go. Romano didn't need any more stress, and Alfred knew it, especially not before exams.

They returned to the campus and Alfred helped Romano unpack his things. As he was unpacking, Alfred came across an ornate yellow bird. It was stiff and no bigger than his palm, and Alfred knew of only one occasion that he had ever seen anything like it. He delicately cradled the bird in his hands and looked down solemnly at it, lost in a memory that wasn't his, not even a memory, really, but a feeling that the delicate creature helped put some imagery to.

"You can put it on the dresser." Alfred suddenly heard Romano say.

Alfred looked up and tried to regain his usual posture and happy-go-lucky attitude. He stood up a little straighter, pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and then plastered a smile on his face.

"Okay, buddy!" he simply told Romano.

Alfred wanted to ask about it, but it wasn't a good time. He had suspected what might've happened, as it didn't take much to put two and two together, but he knew it wouldn't be right to bring it up. No, he would be the hero and help Romano with his exams!

It was Sunday, and the next day would begin their final tests. Romano tried to care, but, with everything else going on, his exams just didn't seem as big of a priority, though he knew they should be. Luckily, he had Alfred.

"Okay, so I thought about this while you were away. I hacked into your account on the school's website to check your grades, and I figured out that if you score high on the English exam, your best subject, then all we really have to work on is your math score, and then you'll pass!" Alfred threw his arms in the air in a double fist pump after saying it, clearly proud of himself. Romano felt a little guilty, though. He always thought his bespectacled friend wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was clearly proven wrong.

'I guess all those video games really did teach him something about technology.' Romano thought.

They spent the rest of the night drowning in numbers, or at least Romano did, Alfred was surfing their mathematical tide perfectly. They studied until they realized it was midnight, and they decided to go to bed. The next morning, they began their exams.

That afternoon, after Romano had completed his dreaded math test, which seemed a little easier after Alfred's help, he knew he had to do what would be the hardest part of his day. He would see Victoria.

He would have to tell Victoria.

Romano made his way into the library just as he had gotten used to over the course of that year. He sat down where he always met Victoria. She walked in like she always had, but, that day, she had an especially bright expression on her face. She walked to him as quickly as she could, and, seeing this, Romano stood and met her half way.

She embraced him in an embrace much like the ones he had gotten used to in Rome, the ones, he realized, only his family could give. Those were the embraces that only people who had been held by Roma could give. Romano stiffened as thoughts of Roma and the main reason he had come to see her surfaced.

When Victoria pulled away she could tell there was something a bit off about her Romano. And yes, he was _her_ Romano. She took possession of the young man that she clung to from the moment she saw him, from the moment that he told her that his name was Romano Vargas, but, even without the name, she knew that she still would've loved him, because she loved Roma.

"Dear Romano, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

Romano took a breath and braced himself. Quickly, quickly he regained enough of his composure and gestured for his grandmother to sit on the small, grey sofa, that had two seats that were stiff, but not too stiff. They were just worn. Romano took a seat beside her. He took her delicate and paper-thin hand in his own and locked their eyes. Her eyes were big and violet, comfortable to look at, but obviously tired. They were just worn.

"Ms. Victoria, what is it that you know about me?" Romano asked.

Victoria looked up and smiled a gentle smile. A tear streamed down Romano's cheek the minute she looked up, the minute he realized how hard letting the words stream out of his mouth would be. Victoria just let her gaze warm him as she let him feel her hand on his cheek. Her touch was the gentile touch only a grandmother could give. Her years had taught her how to touch like that. Her hand rested on him just enough to make the saddened grandchild feel secure, but also strong, yet weak at the same time. Romano was a child that reminded Victoria of the man she fell in love with. Romano was a man that would grow like his Grandfather. Romano needed his grandmother's touch. His grandmother needed Romano.

"My dear Romano, I know much about you. What is it that's bothering you?"

Romano let his teary eyes rest straight ahead on the woman soothing him.

"Do you remember Roma? He was kind…He liked to smile at people. Surely you knew him. Surely you wouldn't forget him…"

Victoria used her little strength she had left from her passionate youth to pull him into a hug that only a grandmother could give. She spoke as Romano rested his head on her shoulder, as she rubbed soothing circles on his back.

She finally spoke, "My sweet grandson Romano, of course I remember Roma."

Romano sobbed at this, "Grandma, I'm not sweet… At least you won't think so by the end of this…Grandma…" Romano sobbed on as Victoria leaned into the child in her arms and gently shushed him.

"Grandma's here. You'll always be my sweet Romano, no matter what." She told him.

Romano looked up. His face was a mess of hot tears, redness, and indents from resting on Victoria's shoulder.

"Roma passed away." He told her.

She pulled her grandson to her once again, but, this time, she clung to him, and they rested on each other. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. For moments, she didn't say anything. She just rested by her grandson. Finally, she softly spoke.

"My Romano, you're still my sweet grandson. Thank you for telling me. You are braver than you know."

Romano continued the embrace as he talked to his grandmother.

"He passed a little over two weeks ago, in his home in Rome. He was sick and weak, but he didn't show much pain, especially in the end. He talked to me, and the last story he told me was the one about meeting you. He loved so many people, and he always loved you, Grandma. He loved your children."

Victoria smiled.

"That's nice to hear, dear. What did he tell you about them?"

"He said that you wanted them to be happy. I know that Roma did everything he could to try and make that happen. He always tried to make people happy, and he touched many people. He was a good man."

"That he was." She pulled away to look at Romano.

She continued, "He made me happy. I was the happiest in my entire life when I was with him, up until now that is. I feel like, as I look at you, that I'm looking at Roma in that library in Rome." She smiled again, wiping a tear from her cheek.

"I don't remember much anymore, and I'm thankful. You see, lately I've felt a bit lighter, I guess that's Roma. I feel like this burden has been lifted. I don't know what it was, but it's gone. I remember Roma. I remember how he ran through the restaurant that day. I remember our first date. I remember our summer together, and I remember looking into the eyes of our babies after giving birth to them, and then looking into his warm, golden eyes. I know those things, and that's what I treasure most." She started crying again. Romano handed her a tissue from the table. She quickly wiped away the tears and began again.

"I can't escape Roma, and meeting you has reminded me of that." She paused.

"I don't remember how I ended up here. I don't know why I ever left him, because, if I could do things again I wouldn't in a million years. I don't remember that annoying blonde guy's name, the one who has been checking on me all week. But I always remember your name. The Roma I knew might be gone, but I feel like his heart lives in you. That's why I can't forget you, my dear, sweet, grandson Romano. That's why you will always _be_ my dear, sweet, grandson Romano."

They hugged again. They both hurt at their loss, but knew that they would be okay, as good memories would always keep Roma alive, as Roma would always live in them.

When they pulled away, Romano remembered the small bird in his bag. He pulled it out and handed it to his grandmother.

"I wanted to give you this." He told her.

"Thank you. It will always remind me of you." She told him.

"But, Grandma, I'm right here." He said, a bit confused.

"But you won't be forever. I don't want you to be." She gestured to the bird.

"This bird can't fly anywhere. I can't fly back in time. But you, my dear, can actually fly. Romano, I can't remember why I left, and I can't remember much about my life after, but I can remember what I left. You also remember what you left. The only difference is that you can go back."

Romano just nodded. Victoria took the small, yellow bird in her hands and held it tighter to her. Romano couldn't believe the woman. He couldn't believe the wonder of the human mind, either. How she had suffered so much pain, so much regret and remorse, how she had suffered everything that Roma had, yet, with Roma's passing, she couldn't remember any of it. How she knew nothing of Romano's life, other than the few details he had exposed to her, that he had figured her Alzheimer's would cause her to forget, and how she pieced together that there was somewhere Romano needed to go back to. How the mind could do this, how a story could create such understanding, how two lifetimes could so easily connect…It was all a wonder.

That's how Romano found himself, just an hour after his last exam, on a plane to Spain.

Nobody was there to pick Romano up at the airport. In his excitement and rush to get there, Romano had forgotten to actually tell Francis he was coming. "Oh well," Romano figured, and just decided to call a taxi. He didn't think Francis would mind giving him his room back, either. If not, Romano would could just sleep on the couch or get a hotel. It didn't matter to him, because Romano was, finally, coming home. He planned two months for the summer, before, sadly, he would have to come back to school again. Romano, as he looked around him, didn't even feel too bad about leaving Alfred, whose offer of "a road trip across America with me, you, and some other dudes. It'll be a total Bro-ed Trip," seemed even less appealing.

He hailed a taxi and was then on his way to Francis's apartment. As he looked out the window, he found himself caught in the same moment he had a year before. It was like everything was new, but the feeling was even better, because, he not only had the love for where he was and the people around him from when he just nineteen years old, but he had the sweet nostalgia from being that young, naïve, nineteen-year-old. So much had changed, yet nothing had changed at all.

He paid the driver before he nervously, and excitedly, made his way to Francis's door. Romano knocked and it was soon opened. Romano didn't expect to see the person behind the door.

Feliciano's smiling face greeted Romano. It was a happy surprise, for both of them. Romano was pulled into the room and instantly felt the impact of his younger brother's body practically jumping onto his, almost knocking him down, as he felt Feliciano's arms close in around him. He returned the squeeze, yet not quite as tightly as his brother.

They then pulled away and began chatting immediately. They took a seat beside one another on the old, brown sofa.

"Feli! What are you doing here?" Romano asked.

"I'm staying with Francis for a little while. That house just was too big and quiet. What are you doing here?" Feliciano asked.

"I decided to stay for the summer. I missed this so much!"

"This will be so nice! Just wait until Francis sees you. He'll be so excited you're here!" Feliciano leaned in a bit, a smirk on his face, "Antonio will also be glad to see you…" he slyly told Romano, causing a blush to form on his cheeks.

"How did you know about that?" Romano timidly asked.

"It's obvious from the way he talks about you, from the way you look at each other. I can't believe that, even after a year apart, you're still so in love with each other."

"I can't really either, to be honest." There was a pause. Romano's expression turned serious.

"So, how have you been, Feli?" Romano asked, concerned.

"Well…" he started, but then the front door opened and Francis stepped inside.

"…We'll continue this later." Feliciano whispered in his brother's ear.

Feliciano then sprung up from his seat and ran to Francis.

"Look who's here!" he shouted so suddenly that Francis almost dropped the brown paper bag of groceries in his hand.

"Whoa! Feli, you scared me!" he went to the kitchen and set the groceries down on the counter. While unpacking them, he rambled on.

"You can't go scaring moi like zhat…almost gave moi a 'eart attack." Feliciano just let him keep at it as he stood by the front door with a ginormous, closed-mouth smile, about to start laughing at Francis for not realizing his mistake yet.

Finally, Francis looked up from the counter and the tasks he had busied himself with, and saw just what Feliciano had been so excited about. Francis dropped everything and ran to Romano, flinging his arms around the smaller man.

Francis peppered Romano's cheeks with little kisses as he held him tight. Eventually, he was able to pull away enough to speak to the younger.

"Romano! It iz really you! Please tell me you are staying! I missed you so much!" he then went back to hugging and kissing his 'little brother'.

"You just saw me a few weeks ago!" Romano playfully countered.

Francis still held on to Romano as he spoke. It was funny to see Francis like this again. Francis wasn't the older, stressed out man he had been just a short time before. Romano finally felt like he, truly, had _his_ Francis back. This Francis was young, and fun, and playful, yet he also had sense, and wisdom, and kindness, and generosity that usually only came with a bit of age and life experience. As he hugged Romano, Francis was bent down to where they were the same height. Francis stuck his tight, pink-pants-clad-butt out a little as he let his arms wrap around Romano's neck, and he let his head rest on Romano's shoulder.

"Oh, but zhat waz not zhe same, mon petit frère. Tell me, 'ow long are you staying?"

"Two months?" Romano smiled while asking, a bit nervous he was imposing too much.

He definitely got a reaction he wasn't expecting.

"Yaaaaaayyyyy!" Francis exclaimed as he picked Romano up and spun him around.

Correction: Maybe Francis wasn't the same as the summer before, but a bit younger.

'Well it is Francis, after all. Anything is possible.' Romano thought.

They had a celebratory dinner that night. They didn't want to bring up the sadness of the past, especially around Feliciano, who they both knew was still hurting, even if he refused to show it. It wasn't just a celebratory dinner for Romano's making it there and deciding to stay a while, but it was a celebration of just making it. It had been a tough year. They had been separated, heart broken, and forced to make painful decisions as life decided to do painful things to them, all of them. Looking across the table, Romano saw himself in the two faces before him. He saw the same pain he had been through. He also saw Roma. Who else would cause the three of them to wind up in Francis's small apartment, on a normal, warm night in May, sharing a family dinner like so many people didn't anymore? Who else could bring the three together, despite every difference, to share that moment of sameness? Because they were all the same. All were tired, a bit empty, emotionally drained, a bit drunk, and yet, in that same moment they found a bit of peace. They found a bit of happiness in each other. As Romano looked across the table he knew Roma was alive in them and happy. He also knew that Victoria would've been happy, too. But, for Romano, there was still one thing he couldn't get out of his mind. Francis, being the big brother he was, seemed to sense this.

"It's Saturday night, mon cher. 'e's working late. Tomorrow will also be a bit busy, I'm afraid, but I'll make sure you see 'im after 'is rush with ze church goers."

This put Romano at ease. He smiled.

"Thank you," he graciously said, before sipping more of the fine wine that he had so dearly missed.

That night, Romano lied in bed, just letting his thoughts take him to dreamland, just as he had the year before in that same, hot, yet, somehow, comforting room. He was shaken from his thoughts as he felt a weight on the bed beside him. Romano turned to meet his brother's face.

"What is it, Feli?" he asked.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you, Romano. I just…Ever since Grandpa Roma…It's hard for me to sleep on my own. I can go ask Francis…"

Romano cut him off.

"No, stay. You're not disturbing me at all."

Feli then smiled at him. He then cuddled his body up to Romano and let himself rest on Romano's chest as he felt his older brother's arms wrap around him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Romano gently whispered.

Romano felt Feliciano nod against his chest.

"I miss Grandpa Roma." He said.

Romano then started to feel his brother's tears on his shirt. It was too hot to do so, but he hugged Feliciano tighter and rubbed little circles on his back as he gently shushed him, just as their grandmother had done for him.

"I know you do," was all Romano could say as he held tightly onto the crying boy.

"I'm scared, Romano. I don't know what I'm going to do. It's always been me and Roma. He's always taken care of me. I've always been taken care of. But now, it's just me. Just me in that big, lonely house that I can't sell because it was Grandpa Roma's house, and I just can't. I can't let him go, and I don't want to. I just…I know I need to figure out my life. I'm nineteen years old now, and Grandpa Roma left me money so I could go to a university and do something with my life, but I don't know what that is. I used to, but, without Roma, it's scary."

"What do want to do?"

"I want to open up a restaurant like Grandpa Roma's was, like the one that our mother grew up in and loved, one that would make Grandpa Roma proud. It's just, with Grandpa gone, I don't know what to do with it anymore. I know it's crazy, but I always imagined Grandpa helping me, but now he's gone. I just don't know if I can do it alone." Feliciano, still worried, sleepily told Romano.

"Don't worry about it, okay? You're still young, and there's still so much you're going to learn. When the time is right, you're going to do it. And you won't be alone. You have me, and Francis, and Antonio, and so many others. We're not Roma, but we'll try to help however we can. Do you remember what you said at the funeral?" Romano asked.

"I said many things. What did I say?" Feliciano asked.

"You told everybody that Roma gave and gave, and, therefore, there's a special piece of him in our hearts. I really liked that. But, do you know what that means for you?" Romano asked.

"What is it?" Feliciano asked like a hopeful child.

Romano looked down at his little brother like a father would to his little boy. His hand made its way to Feli's cheek and then up to his hair, where it stayed, and his fingers ran through the auburn curls.

"It means that, in little ways, Roma _will_ be with you in this, because Roma's always with us. Roma lives in everybody who lets him live in them, and, because of that, he'll always be with us as long as we're together."

Romano felt Feliciano smile against his chest.

"I felt Grandpa Roma tonight as we all sat at the dinner table." Romano told him.

After a pause, Romano thought that Feliciano was finally asleep, so he closed his eyes and began to drift off, himself. Just as he was about to be completely taken by the day's fatigue, he heard a small voice.

"I felt Grandpa Roma tonight with you," Feli said.

Romano fell asleep that night with a smile on his face.

All day the next day, Romano could feel his anxiety creeping in as he thought about Antonio. He didn't know what he would do. Would he hug him, and kiss him, and show him that he still loved with all of his heart? Or would he just be cordial and treat him as a friend? What would he look like? He knew that he couldn't have changed too much in two weeks, but his mind still let him think that Antonio could have drastically changed. What has he been doing? And, the one question Romano dreaded, had Antonio moved on? Did Antonio have someone else to love, and to love him, now?

Romano took a walk through the garden with his camera, which he actually remembered this time, to pass time. Come to think of it, he was thankful that he hadn't taken it to Rome. Though Rome was beautiful, he knew that he didn't need pictures to remind him of everything that happened. On that present day, he snapped as many pictures as possible of the fantastic scenery that engulfed him. Romano used new techniques he had learned from studying those photography books, and felt like he was getting good results. Overall, other than his rapid heartbeat for Antonio, Romano enjoyed his quiet Sunday taking photographs in his favorite garden.

When he felt the sun slowly beginning to set on his face and in his photos, he knew it was time to go back. Every step he took made him feel one step closer to an actual heart attack. Antonio. He was going to see Antonio.

He looked down, nervously biting his lip as he just let his camera hang around his neck by its leather strap.

That's why he didn't hear the feet loudly pounding against the pavement as they anxiously ran toward him. It was sudden, and he was shocked to feel arms wrap around him, to feel his head being tilted upwards, to feel soft lips on his.

In an instant he knew exactly who those lips belonged to, and he let himself melt into Antonio.

They finally broke away for air and just stared longingly at each other. No words were needed. Every doubt Romano felt was erased, if only for that moment. Because, when Antonio looked at him, that was the only thing that mattered.

Antonio was the first to speak.

"Romano…" was all he said.

Romano's face lit up at that.

"Antonio…" Romano said the other's name back as he pulled himself in, wrapped his arms around the taller, and let his head rest on Antonio's chest.

Antonio's arms soon found themselves around Romano's waist, and soon, resting in Romano's soft mess of waves and curls.

"Antonio, how did you find me here? I thought we were just going to meet at Francis's." Romano mumbled in the other man's chest.

Antonio smiled at how cute Romano was. He looked down at the smaller.

"I couldn't wait that long to see you. I knew you'd be here, so I went to find you."

"I'm glad you did. I was nervous about seeing you, but you just made it easy, like ripping off a bandage. I thought I was going to have a heart attack on my way over."

"Why's that?" Antonio asked, concerned.

"Because I was scared you changed." Romano looked up at him. He let his hand touch Antonio's features. His fingers softly trailed up and down as his eyes did the same.

"You haven't." Romano smiled.

"You're the same Antonio."

"And you're the same Romano."

"We should probably walk back." Romano said, suddenly a bit more rational.

"Si, that would be a good idea."

There wasn't much talking, just sideways glances and slight giggles as they thought about another summer together. It was bliss. It was the feeling of the world being lifted, and Romano with it, and then Antonio's green eyes and millions of smiles were there, and that's all that mattered to Romano.

The dinner went well with its usual nonchalant conversation, clean plates, and empty bottles of wine. At the end, everyone in the room stood up to walk Antonio to the door. He kissed Feli's cheeks first, before Feli decided he was tired and made his way to him and Romano's shared room. Francis was second to say goodbye to his best friend, and he quickly went off to his room, after. That left Antonio and Romano alone in the living room.

Antonio kissed Romano passionately on the lips as he firmly held onto him.

"Don't go just yet. Sit for a minute." Romano said.

Antonio leaned his head down on Romano's, softly, he replied.

"Okay."

Romano led him to the sofa that he had mentally nicknamed the "conversation couch", because he remembered a good few important talks he had while sitting there. He knew that night wasn't an exception.

As they sat with their arms wrapped tightly around each other, Romano felt his rough exterior crumble and be reduced to a single heartbeat, and a single thought lingered, the same thought that had stayed with him ever since he had separated himself from the man he clung so desperately to that night.

It took a few moments. It took a few breaths. It took a few heartbeats for the thought to leave his mouth and become real. Because once something is said, it can never be forgotten, even if those words seemed forgotten at the time.

"Do you still love me?" Romano finally breathed out into Antonio's soft chest.

"Yes." Antonio smiled.

"My Romano, I think you've forgotten the simple fact I will always love you."

Romano looked up at Antonio and smiled.

"Really? Like…Like, more than a friend, or some random guy you see and kiss and cuddle with every once in a while…" Romano felt like a little kid as he wondered such things aloud. But, he was a kid in that aspect. He had only ever loved Antonio like that. Antonio was it. He was anxious to be on the same page.

Antonio took Romano's jaw into one of his hands, tilted his head up, and kissed him firmly on the mouth. It was a big, open-mouth kiss, that Romano could've just drowned in. He really loved that man. He loved Antonio's sloppy open-mouth kisses. He loved his smiles. He loved his loving green eyes staring down at him. He also loved the reassurance that came from Antonio's touches and words, and yet he also loved the feeling of being on his toes when around the man, of knowing they had places to go, that it would never just end.

"I love you like the love of my life." Antonio told him.

"When you left, it's like you were still with me. You were always in my mind, somewhere. I hug and I kiss because when you're close, I just want you closer, even if you're always in my thoughts. Romano, what have you done to my affections? I can't even begin to try not loving you, because then you just appear again and I'm reduced to a man drowning in his own love for someone I can't even be with all the time. The person I want to be with all the time."

At that point, Antonio was an opened door of a busy mind that had held so much in, so much that nobody would understand, except Romano. Because Romano felt the same things. Antonio was easily swept away by his emotions, as his voice grew and trembled, and his eyes glistened with a wetness that Romano had only ever seen once in their time together.

Romano let his hand caress away the tears on Antonio's cheeks as he looked up at him and tried to calm him.

"Antonio. I'm right here. I'm right here and I'll be here for a long time. Even when I'm not here I'll still be with you, because you're always with me. I love you so much, and nothing will change that."

Romano just looked into Antonio's green eyes, what he remembered as his sunrises from last summer, until he kissed him on the chin, cheeks, nose, and then finally, his lips.

"It's getting late. I should get to bed." Romano finally told Antonio.

Antonio looked down at his love with almost pleading eyes.

"Can't you come with me tonight?" he asked.

Romano was tempted, but he knew that Feli still needed him. He shook his head.

"Not tonight."

Antonio simply nodded and gave Romano one last smile and kiss.

"Sweet dreams, my love. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Meet me after your shift in the garden."

"I already planned on it."

"Okay, goodnight then." Romano hated that part of the night.

"Goodnight." Antonio finally told him with a small, tired, and contented smile. Romano knew he was trying to hide his hatred for that part of their night, as well.

Antonio then closed the door and started on his way to his cozy home, and a part of Romano wished he could've gone with him.

As he walked into his and Feli's bedroom, he saw a note by the table.

 _"_ _Go with him next time. I'll be okay, I promise._

 _-Feli"_

Romano smiled down at the little note before quietly taking his clothes off and climbing into the bed.

Antonio and Romano spent the next day in "Romano's Garden", as Antonio called it.

"I mean, seriously, you spend so much time here that they should name at least something after you, why not the whole garden?" he would say.

Romano would just smile at him.

"I don't think it works that way." Romano would always say.

"Why don't we change that?" Antonio would ask.

"You can't change everything." Romano would simply tell him.

"Yes, but there are some things in our life we have control over." Antonio would tell him as he looked deeply into Romano's hazel eyes.

That conversation would always get Romano thinking. What did he have control over? He would always wonder this until Antonio would snap him out of his thoughts by showing him something, or hugging him, or kissing him, or just being Antonio, because it didn't take much for Romano to be completely captivated in the man.

They spent most of their nights in Antonio's warm bed, with Romano cuddled in Antonio's warm arms, freshly warmed from the comforting, and beating down sunlight that was like no other.

About two weeks into Romano's being in Spain again, the two lovers embraced side by side in that warm bed, tired after a full day of being in Romano's special garden, taking walks along the city, capturing the endlessly new things they saw in photographs, and simply loving each other like they would never love again, because, for all they knew, they never would love again.

"Romano." Antonio said in a tired voice.

"What is it?" Romano sweetly asked, just as tired, though.

Antonio's tone turned a bit more adamant as he spoke again.

"Just stay here, Romano." He nuzzled himself into Romano's neck before he continued.

"You could just live here. Just stay with me. Sleep in this bed every night and day, next to me. Eat food with me. Take siestas with me. Just live with me for a while. You'd just have to move your things in, give Feli your bedroom at Francis's. We'll still see them, and they'll be fine. We have time to have a little life together."

Romano was so sleepy all he could do was nod his head into Antonio. He mustered a small, "Okay," before going to sleep.

Antonio watched the sleeping man in his arms for just a little while longer, until he too, slipped into dreamland.

The rest of that summer went about like that day had been. Romano took pictures. Antonio worked his shift and then quickly went to meet Romano, and the two would spend the rest of the day together. Somedays, Francis and Feli would join them, and the four of them would have a good time in whatever they chose to do. It was, despite the heavy that surrounded the four of them and their emotions, a light summer. As Romano looked around him, he wanted to just pause so many of the moments. He wanted to pause the picnic in the garden they returned to, with the roses and edelweiss surrounding them. On that day, Romano was twenty years old, Feliciano was nineteen, Francis was thirty-one, and Antonio was twenty-eight. In that moment, they were forever young and together, with the rest of the summer, and their lives, ahead of them. But, the day was soon gone. As was, soon enough, most of the summer.

They decided to spend the last two weeks of that light summer in Rome, in Roma's and Feli's house. Feli had made the decision to return when Romano did, so Francis decided that it would be a good idea to stay with him a while before completely leaving him there in that big, empty house. Romano and Antonio loved the idea, and upon Antonio requesting off, the four of them packed and left for Rome.

'It's funny how things in life seem to work out like two pieces of a giant puzzle most aren't even aware is there.'

Upon entering the large, old home, Romano felt like he was being filled and then emptied again, and the cycle would repeat. Feli hadn't changed anything. The house still looked like Roma, smelled a bit like Roma, and made Romano think back to the few happy memories he had of a living Roma, which filled his body to the brim with a breath of air bigger than he knew he could take, as he tried to breathe Roma in, but then he felt empty as the depressed feeling set in as he reminded himself that Roma wasn't going to welcome them from the top of the wooden stairs, and he released that once euphoric breath.

He then got an even better understanding as to why Feli couldn't stay there.

Over time, they all took steps to make the house a better place for Feli. By the next week, the whole house was dusted, the floors swept, mopped, and vacuumed, the beds were made, and Romano and Antonio started trying to revive the depressing garden that rested underneath the balcony of their bedroom there. They bought colorful plants to replace the brown, crumbly ones there. They took the stones away and created a border with them. It took them two days to pull up all the weeds. But, finally, it was done. Feli was amazed when he saw it, and said that it was hard for him to remember the garden when it was pretty, and that the balcony above it belonged to his and Romano's mother, and it was her garden. Romano felt happy that his mother just might have liked gardens as much as he did, and that he, with Antonio, had given new life to hers. Feli promised he would take care of it.

That night, after they all showered their hard work away, they all sat together in the rather large living room, just telling stories and reminiscing about things that had happened in the house. Romano loved hearing those stories. The house had, at one time, been full. That was when Roma, his daughter, Feliciano's father, and Feliciano had lived there. It was nice to think about how, with the four of them in that living room and staying in the three bedrooms, it was once again full, even if for just a little while.

They continued their stories until Romano's phone rang. He stepped out of the room and answered the call.

"Hello?" he asked.

Immediately, he heard Alfred's worried voice.

"Alfred? What's going on?" Romano asked.

"Look, I don't know how to say this, but…Your grandmother passed away yesterday. I got a phone call after they couldn't reach you. They told me she was sick and knew that she was getting worse, so she wrote out a few plans. Basically, she left it all to you… her money, her things…plans for her. She didn't know what address to send you…your part of the will, so she trusted it with me until I could give it to you personally or send it to you. Look man, I'm really sorry. I know that you're just trying to enjoy your time there and that you've been through a lot of crap lately, but, if there's anything I can do…"

"It's okay. Thank you. Send it to Rome. That's where I am right now, and I have a few wishes that I'd like carried out while I'm here."

"You got it. Do you want me to come there?" Alfred asked.

Romano looked back to the living room, where Francis, Feli, and Antonio were sitting. He turned back and then spoke into the phone.

"I'm okay. You enjoy the rest of your summer."

"I will. Call me if you need anything."

"I will." Romano said. He then hung up the phone.

He suddenly had a lot to think about.

They had a small, private service for her. Romano couldn't help but think of how wonderful the men with him were. They didn't even know her, yet they spoke so highly of the woman that would've, that could've, been a grandmother to them all. Romano supposed that they felt like he did when he first found out that his mother was dead. Yes, one might grieve the actual person, but, one grieves just as much, or maybe more, the loss of the opportunity of ever knowing the person.

They buried her next to Roma.

As Romano walked back to the old house, he couldn't help but think about opportunities and grief. He felt like, in his short twenty years of existence, those were two things he had come to know well. Or were they? He had definitely faced them, but did he know what to do?

Romano continued to think about those things as he let himself get tired enough to sleep in the too-hot-to-be-comfortable room. Antonio was already sound asleep beside him, cuddled into his side, as Romano lied on his back and just stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

"What are you thinking about, my tomato?" Antonio asked. So he wasn't asleep.

"Life, I guess. Do you think anyone figures it out?" Romano asked.

"I don't know. I know that most people spend their whole lives trying." Antonio answered honestly with his hoarse and tired voice.

"Like Roma and Victoria did?"

"Si, like Roma and Victoria did." Antonio continued, sleepily answering.

"Do you think they figured it out?"

"They ended up next to each other forever didn't they?"

"Si. Do you think they could've done that earlier?"

Antonio sat up and took Romano's hands in his.

"I don't know. I'm not supposed to know, neither are you, or anybody else for that matter. I've found it's pointless trying to know. You can't change the past, you can only learn from it, my love."

"Looks like I have some learning to do." Romano told him before Antonio lied back down beside him, and Romano let his mind rest.

They fell asleep together.

The next morning, Romano woke to an empty bed beside him.

'Where is he?' he wondered.

Finally, he spotted a note on the bedside table.

 _"_ _Romano,_

 _I went out to the market for a bit. Don't worry, I'll be back soon enough. I love you!_

 _-Love, Antonio"_

Romano smiled at the sweet note. Could Antonio's words ever not be sweet? Romano didn't think so. He took a deep breath and stretched before he looked at the time. It was only six-thirty.

'Why is he out so early?' Romano thought.

Romano knew that Francis and Feli weren't up yet, and there would be no point in trying to wake them, so he just tried to fall back asleep, himself, but something kept him awake. Looking for something to do, he glanced at the dresser across the room and saw the note on it. It was the note that his grandmother had left him along with his inheritance. He hadn't read the note yet, in a way of keeping her with him longer, he supposed, but he knew it would do no good. On that morning her words needed to be read.

 _Romano, my dear sweet grandson,_

 _I know we haven't personally known each other long, but, I feel as if I know you. I feel as if I can look into your sweet eyes and know what you're thinking. You're like my little Roma, except you're not, and that makes knowing you all the more exciting. I feel as if everything happens for a reason, and, maybe, instead of the reason for our meeting being something more for myself, maybe we met for you. I'm old and have lived long. I've had happiness. I've found happiness once again in you. Thank you for that. Maybe our meeting was supposed to give me something, but nothing more than a bit of peace before I left this world. I can't tell you what the reason for everything is, even with many years of wisdom behind me, but I can tell you what I would tell a younger me, because we seem a bit alike. I don't have much of a memory anymore, so first I would have to say to make as many memories as you can, so there will be more to choose from when you're old and those kinds of things keep you going. I want you to live a life that you want to keep going in. My final words to you are the same words I last remember saying to Roma. "Please let them be happy." Please, let those closest to you be happy. Please, let yourself be happy._

 _-Love, Grandma"_

Romano set the note down and stared at the wall in front of him, tears streaming down his face, deep in thought.

'What if that's it?'

Before he could continue, he heard footsteps entering the bedroom. He turned around to see Antonio's smiling face.

"What were you doing at the market so early?" Romano, curiously, asked him.

"I had to go get something." Antonio simply told him. Suddenly, he took Romano's hand and led him to the balcony overlooking the garden.

Romano felt a sense of déjà vu as he suddenly felt Antonio's arms wrap around him from behind. When Antonio rested his head between Romano's shoulder blades, Romano recognized this as a scene from a dream he had the year before, the night before he moved in with Antonio for that heavenly week. He then knew that the garden he dreamed of was indeed the one they were standing over, not one in Spain, like he had originally thought. After Romano turned around and looked into Antonio's green sunrises, after he was pulled into a loving kiss, Romano was anxious to hear what the man would say next. This was the part of the dream that Romano had woken up at, and a part of Romano expected himself to find out that that moment, too, was a dream. But that never happened.

Antonio spoke in the most heavenly voice Romano had ever heard. It was Antonio's voice. It was soft, as to not wake anybody else in the house. It was rough because of the early morning air. It was lyrical, because that was just how Antonio always let words roll off his tongue. It was loving, because of what Antonio said.

"Romano. I love you more I ever thought I could love. I look in your eyes, and I see the most wonderful things. I never realized how my home was never quite complete until I saw you in it. I never realized how my life was never complete until you came in it. Last night, I fell asleep to thoughts about you and what I said to you, about learning from the past. I thought about learning from Roma and Victoria. I thought about how I don't ever want to leave you, how I'm a selfish man, because I don't think even being buried next to you for eternity would be enough. I want this life, Romano. I want to live this life. Every time I see you, you remind me to live it. You make me want to live it. A part of that is at least taking the chance to try. So, even if it doesn't work out, even if you say no, even if…I can at least say I tried to live my life. And Romano, I want to live my life with you."

Romano stood in shock as he saw the love of his life get down on one knee in front of him. Antonio took one of Romano's hands in his and softly threaded their fingers together. Antonio's other hand reached into his pocket and held a box. He let his fingers slide the box open, and, in it, Romano saw a ring with a stone that shined different colors in the light. Romano knew the ring would be beautiful in Spain's sheltering sunlight.

"Romano Lovino Vargas, will you marry me?" Antonio asked him.

Romano stood in shock as he heard the love of his life ask him the question. He thought back to his first drink of wine with Francis, to the garden with Antonio, to his first and last conversations with Roma, to his letter from his grandmother.

 _"_ _Sometimes, the heart is ahead of the mind."_

 _"_ _The places you're meant to be, you'll go in your time, so there's no need not to smell the roses and…edelweiss, around you. The people you're meant to meet, whether it's to make your day or to change your life, you'll meet when the universe, or God, or some power over us, decides it's right, but you'll only know the difference between those two categories of people after the meeting."_

 _"_ _Romano Lovino Vargas. To go to America, to learn, to succeed, to be found, to be loved. Momma and Grandpa, Feliciana and Roma Vargas."_

 _"_ _Please, let those closest to you be happy. Please, let yourself be happy."_

Romano let these thoughts go through his mind like they were cars passing him, just a simple man, as if he was sitting on his front porch and watching them go by. By the time the last thought passed, his mind was made up and he was scared to death, but happy at the same time.

With a timid voice and a slight smile, Romano Vargas said, "Yes."

What happened after ended up being a mixed together, but wonderful, memory of kissing, and hugging, and "I love you"s , and promises. Romano felt safe in these promises; he felt safe in Antonio's arms. He would figure out the rest later, because things always worked out, he had learned. Things in life always seemed to work out like two pieces of a giant puzzle most aren't even aware is there.

The pieces then began to fall into place, just as Romano, finally, knew they would. They planned a small wedding and would honeymoon in Rome, at Feli's, while Feli agreed to stay with Francis during that time. Romano finally told his adoptive parents about Antonio, and though they were skeptical, he didn't leave them a choice but to support his decisions. He decided to be the adult he had been growing up for so long to be, and he made up his mind.

He decided to stay in Spain with Antonio. He would transfer schools in the fall. If his parents didn't support it, then he had his own money to support himself with. Luckily, they agreed to letting him transfer. He also decided on a major. Romano was going to be a photographer. He was going to capture the beauty around him, the beauty he saw every morning when he woke up in that amazing place that he told himself he would never leave again. His photos were his eyes that other people could see through, and he wanted people to see what he saw, because every good person deserved at least a second of what he saw all the time, because it was just the most wonderful thing.

Romano looked up from his camera as he sat with Antonio in their special garden, back in Spain.

'The world will never see him the way I do.' He thought.

Antonio kissed him and told him he loved him.

'That's okay. Only I can love him like this.' Romano concluded his thoughts as he kissed Antonio back.

A few days later, Romano broke away from another kiss with Antonio. That kiss was Romano's first kiss. It was Romano's first kiss as Antonio's husband.

Romano looked out as he, still, held his husband's hand. He saw Alfred, his best man, beside him, and Francis, Antonio's best man, standing next to Antonio. He saw Feliciano in a small audience of people. In that audience, Romano also found his adoptive parents.

By the time the reception started, Romano went to them.

"You came." He said.

His mother and father smiled at him.

"Of course we came." His mother said.

"I wouldn't miss my son getting married for the world."

Romano found his lips turning up at this.

Romano felt his father's strong arms around him.

"You've done well for yourself. I'm proud of you, son. I want you to know that, even with this new family and new life you have here, you're always my son."

Romano teared up at that. He looked his father in the eyes.

"Thank you," he told him.

When Romano looked over to find his mother, he saw the most wonderful thing. There his mother was, the traditional woman she was, hugging Antonio. Romano heard her softly tell him something, yet not so softly that Romano couldn't hear.

"Antonio, I trust you to take care of my little boy. It's not…what I always imagined for him…but I think you're a good man, and I think you'll make a good husband to Romano, and a good son to me."

Romano could hear Antonio beginning to cry on her shoulder.

"I love Romano more he'll ever know. I'll spend every day of my life caring for him and trying to tell him, and to show him. Thank you for letting me marry your son. Thank you for letting me be another son to you."

When they pulled apart, Antonio made his way over to Romano and his father. Antonio, still emotional, smiled and greeted the middle aged man in front of him.

"It's nice to finally meet you, sir."

Antonio was then pulled into a bear hug.

"Son, just call me Dad."

Antonio then revealed one of his millions of smiles.

As Romano continued to walk around, he liked to watch the families interact.

Alfred and Francis didn't particularly like each other, he noticed as they all waited for dinner to be ready.

"Frenchie! People are hungry out there! Hurry with the food." Romano noticed Alfred walk into the kitchen and complain.

"It will be ready soon enough. Now get out of my hair, and let me finish cooking!"

"Why couldn't you have just made burgers or something? That would've been faster!"

"Burgers are not appropriate for a wedding, you silly American!"

Romano just shook his head as he listened. As long as they didn't kill each other…

All of a sudden, or so it felt like it, a few years had passed. Romano still took photographs, and even did it for a living. With extra money from Victoria, he was able to open up a small gallery. People could finally be reminded of the wonderful place they were in, because, Romano knew, that that was a memory he always wanted to keep and build off of, and he knew others would too.

He still woke up every morning to Antonio's sunrises, and, on some mornings, they would take walks where he could feel the dew on his fingers. Romano knew that with age some things would change, his love for those dewy-finger mornings had not.

With each other, careers, happiness, and savings of those things, Romano and Antonio had more than they could possibly do with. That's why, with a smile and letter, they made Feli's dream come true. Looking at the massive house turned bed and breakfast, with its smiling visitors who kissed each other on the cheek when they saw each other, who liked to have relaxed conversation while they were away from the troubles of where they came, who liked to just sit and smell the roses because it was their time to, Romano knew that Roma's dream had also come true. Feliciano had done it. Though he did have some help, Feli was the creator, and every bit of it belonged to Romano's dear younger brother.

Francis continued on in his relaxed life as a romance novelist, the job he was always meant for and that he loved, but he also, Romano realized, had a new job. Before, it had been Roma that held their family together. So many years later, Romano realized that Francis had become the glue. Because of him, they were always connected. They lived for Roma. They lived for each other. They lived for the past, the present, and the future. They lived for happiness.

Romano looked around as he stood outside the massive house on its opening day. Their little family was there as Feliciano unveiled the sign that made the building his bed and breakfast, and they all watched as, finally, they all realized that they had everything they ever wanted, with them, in that moment. Romano wished he could pause that scene before him, and just live in it a while. But he knew that he just couldn't.

Romano had come to know that he was no longer lost. In his years of learning and growing, he knew that he had lived up to being the found one of the lost generation, and that would all just continue.

When Romano Vargas was nineteen years old, he wanted to escape. And he did. He soon found out that getting somewhere usually isn't the hard part, but keeping going can be what pushes a person. When Romano Vargas was twenty years old, he came to find out that keeping going can only push a person forward, because that's the only direction anyone can go. When Romano Vargas-Carriedo was twenty-three, he came to realize that he was truly happy with it all. He loved his life with it's warm sun like no other. He loved his life with his Antonio, and his Feli, and his Francis, and his Alfred, and even his parents. He loved his life with the past that haunted him and taught him new things everyday he lived it.

The found one of the lost generation loved his life, with all it's getting there and keeping going.

 **The End.**

 **Before I completely finish off this story, there are a few people that deserve some recognition. First off, I'd like to thank anyone who read this, and I want you to know that the thought of writing this for somebody to take the time to read it brought me a joy like no other. I'd like to thank my mother, who, even after a long day at work, would sit with me late into the night and help me make sense of plot lines, and would just leave me to write as she realized I would be up all night to finish a chapter, instead of making me go to sleep. I also have to thank a few special readers. They are Krouel, who gave me my first ever review, Crimson cat angel, who's shown so much support in their following and reviewing, Scarlett Wallflower, my "fanfiction older sibling" as I like to think of them, because they were always so supportive and kind to me, a new author. I'd also like to mention kingdomkeepers77, who made me feel so special with their reviews and following. I couldn't possibly forget Shinyuee, who has been an absolute sweetheart and more wonderful then they'll ever know, who I've found, is basically my French personality twin. I also have to recognize my other wonderful followers at the time of writing this: Dog Truly Is A Pigeon, JeaneMaggie, Kaeranda. Before I go, sorry, I know this is long, I want to send a special thanks to two close friends of mine, Arizoniaparis, who inspired me to post this in the first place, and TheChiaPetOverlLord, who has also been so great in encouraging my writing. I made this long thank you because I know that if it wasn't for all of these amazing people, this story would not have been possible. Thank you to everyone who had a part in this. I love you all!**


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